


Brewing Chaos

by Thunder_the_Wolf



Series: Just A Dream [4]
Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: Grief/Mourning, Suicide mention, forest fire, these cats fall on hard times
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:41:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 34,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23313307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thunder_the_Wolf/pseuds/Thunder_the_Wolf
Summary: Fireheart is not handling the fallout of Tigerclaw's betrayal as well as he thought he would. He's on his second apprentice, and they're proving to be more than a handful. He never imagined that training a cat could be this exhausting! But he's doing pretty well, considering he's all but the leader. The balance between keeping up with Bluestar and ensuring life goes on is a full-time job, but at least he's got the Clan on his side. Now, if only he could remember what it was about ShadowClan that had him so worried around this time. They know now not to let in too many outsiders... don't they?
Relationships: Firestar & Darkstripe, Firestar & Ferncloud, Firestar & Goldenflower, Firestar & Oakfur, Firestar/Sandstorm (Warriors)
Series: Just A Dream [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/945852
Comments: 40
Kudos: 81





	1. Prologue

#  **Prologue**

Oakpaw was not having a good night. There had not been many good nights in ShadowClan since he first became an apprentice, but Dawncloud had always assured him that it was never his fault and there was nothing he could do about it. That didn't change the fact that this was not a good night. 

“Oakie?” A hesitant voice called into the apprentice den. “You awake yet?” 

ShadowClan cats had a strange habit of all their best work being done in the dark. It was what their ancestors were good at, and that made them proud. Considering this, Oakpaw had been asleep all day just as any other cat would sleep all night. Or he had tried. There wasn't much sleep to be had in the chaos that came with rebuilding a Clan. 

“I'm up, Brownie, what d’you want?” 

Littlepaw hated his name. He'd grin and bear it, even if he flinched whenever someone scoffed at his size. It's not his fault half of ShadowClan was undersized. All the better to rip you to shreds while you laughed.

“Sunset patrol. Runningnose wants us to go look for herbs again.” 

“Yeah, sure. Maybe we'll find some prey while we're at it.” Oakpaw groaned as he lumbered to his paws. 

As he stepped out of the apprentice den and into the moonlit camp, an agonized groan reached his ears. 

“Nightpelt’s been good to us.” Oakpaw mumbled. “He stepped up when he didn't have to. He's teaching Blackfoot what we were like… before. He doesn't deserve this.” 

“Blackfoot sure isn't ready to let him go. He's not even that old. He and Clawface were brothers.” Littlepaw scowled.

“Really?” Oakpaw mused. That's something he would have never known. “Clawface could have been a good cat, with Nightpelt for a brother.” 

“Yeah, had to. Nightpelt made it this far.” Littlepaw offered.

“I just wish he wasn't in so much pain…” 

Oakpaw thought back to the last time he'd seen the black tom stumbling his way up to share the meeting place with Blackfoot. “You said he needs herbs, right?” 

“Yeah, coltsfoot for his breathing, Runningnose wants to try a mixture of catmint and marshleaf root.” 

“Marshleaf root? I thought that was for kits?” 

“It could also help with his breathing problem.”

“Wow, you sure do have this herb thing down. You're almost as good as Runningnose himself.” 

Mentally, Oakpaw was really hoping that Littlepaw hadn't caught his slip-up. He'd been thinking back to when he first became an apprentice and he'd been chosen to help find WindClan. Several of them had injuries or were sick or just needed some extra attention and Fireheart had worked with Barkface. The ginger tom had soaked up all he could about WindClan’s ways, and he could often be seen bringing elders water or smearing plant juice in their cuts. 

“StarClan to Oakpaw, Littlepaw has asked you to quit wandering-. Look out!” He yelped, bowling the red-brown tom over and crouching on top of him, pinning the other apprentice as much as he could as he raised his head to the sky. A large grey owl had smothered the moonlight and it had almost been close enough for some cats to see black specks on its wing. 

“What's an owl doing here?!” Talonclaw spat. The mottled grey and white brother of Runningnose glanced around camp, amber eyes gleaming in the darkness. 

“They never come so close to camp!” Darkflower insisted. 

“Did it take any kits?” Stumpytail demanded, turning to Sleekheart. 

“Not this time.” The silver queen replied, thanking her ancestors with all she had. She'd lost her first ever litter to the sickness that ravaged the Clan, and spent most of her time wishing it would take her too. “It will come back though. It must smell our weakness.” 

“You’d think the stench of death would keep it away.” A new voice panted. Some gazes flashed to the tabby form of Wetfoot, who looked more brown than grey. The mud clotting his fur and the lack of companions keeping step into the camp told Oakpaw that Wetfoot, his poor mentor, had gone off to bury his parents alone, elders the both of them who had held out until just this morning. There were more graves to be dug; Wetfoot's parents weren't the only ones to have fallen in this plague, but he was allowed a day's rest to grieve and regain his strength. 

“How's Nightpelt?” He murmured quickly, voice thick with fear. 

“Runningnose has been by his side all night, right along with Blackfoot.” 

“Poor dear is determined to wear himself out keeping his deputy alive.” Sleekheart murmured. “Has anyone brought them prey?” 

“I'm doing that now.” Brownpaw, Stumpytail's apprentice, informed them through the bundle of freshkill in his mouth. “Here's hoping some frog will cheer him up. I almost caught a turtle!” 

“A turtle!” Several cats gasped.

“Surely not!” Stumpytail growled. “Foolish boy! We all know better than to go messing with turtles! Backs harder than the Moonstone and a bite that could snap a leg in two?! I oughtta keep you in camp just for that!” 

“But I didn't get hurt!” 

“But you could have, you lizard-brain!” Stumpytail roared. “We already have a fourth of the Clan we used to. Do you really think I need to waste my time running after a cat with no good sense?! Take those to the medicine den and go to your nest.” 

“But-!” 

“ _And stay there_!” 

Brownpaw did as told, head and tail low. 

“Can't say I envy him.” Littlepaw mumbled as he watched his brother go. “C'mon, I want to get these herbs before sunrise.” 

The medicine cat emerged from his den just as the pair of apprentices loped out of camp. Runningnose's hopeful announcement did not meet their ears. 


	2. Chapter One

#  **Chapter One**

Warm shafts of sunlight streamed through the canopy of leaves and flickered over the ginger tom's pelt. He crouched lower, knowing that he'd stick out like a dandelion among violets and hoping that his apprentice had the good sense to do the same. Fireheart flexed his claws, paws itching with anticipation. He was hungry after leading the dawn patrol and hunting all morning. This was the high season for prey, a time for the Clan to grow fat on the forest’s bounty. And although there had been little rain since the newleaf floods, the woods were rich with food. After stocking the fresh-kill pile back at camp, it was time to hunt for himself.

He was currently stalking a pigeon, and he crept beneath some ferns, angling himself so that he could easily leap for the plump grey bird. Grey and speckled, a bit like the cat he was attempting to teach. The cat who's scent suddenly smothered the area. 

_She better not-!_

The bird's head shot up but its potential escape was hampered by a larger shape pinning it to the ground with a triumphant howl and biting its neck. 

Fireheart sighed and rose to aching paws. 

“Well done.” He offered quietly. 

“I caught it before you! I caught it before you!” Fernpaw chanted. 

“Keep this up and you won't catch anything else.” Fireheart snorted. 

“Sure I will, just like I caught that bird right from under your nose!” His apprentice crowed, prancing around with warm freshkill flapping in her mouth. 

“Bury that! Now!” Fireheart hissed as he warily scanned the forest. 

“Why should I? I caught it fair and square so I should be the one to take it back to camp!” 

Fernpaw's whining was muffled by the prey, but that didn't help Fireheart’s patience. Fernpaw and Ashpaw were the survivors of Brindleface's first litter. It was only fair that Darkstripe spoiled her like Brindleface did her brother, but if Fernpaw couldn't do something as simple as show respect for the prey she'd just caught… It was Fireheart’s responsibility to teach her the skills of a Clan warrior and how to respect the code they lived by. The young she-cat had the makings of a fine hunter, but Fireheart couldn’t help wishing that she would learn to stifle her pride. Deep down, he sometimes wondered if Fernpaw would ever understand how incredibly lucky she was. She had been apprenticed to him right at the edge of greenleaf, when the prey ran fast and plentiful. Had no reason to go hungry or even acknowledge a lack of prey, because the Clan ensured that kits ate first. As such, she was used to wonderful conditions. He didn't have the heart to bring her down from feeling on top of the forest, and it was not his place to. He'd have to see what Brindleface and Darkstripe would say. 

_She has her father's arrogance and none of his humility._

“If you take prey back to camp every time you've caught something that's half a day wasted over maybe two mice. We do things a certain way for a reason.” Fireheart urged. Fernpaw snorted and spat her kill on to the ground, scraping dust all around it. 

“Happy?” She sneered. 

“Over by that tree.” Her mentor ordered. “Do it properly this time.” 

“You're so worried about how I treat my prey but I'm the one that's wasting time?” Fernpaw grumbled as she scraped dirt over the root of the tree the pigeon now lay under. 

“Why are you so jumpy, anyway?” Fernpaw wondered. 

“We are not the only creatures to reside in this forest.” Fireheart informed her. “And definitely not the fiercest.” 

“Aren't you the deputy?” Fernpaw scoffed. “Bluestar wouldn't pick a weak cat to lead ThunderClan.” 

“Bluestar’s choices are not yours to question.” Fireheart insisted. “And that doesn't mean we could handle a fox.” 

“What's a fox?” 

“Exactly.” Fireheart groused as they padded through the forest. 

“I'd be fiercer if you let me fight with the others.” Fernpaw scoffed suddenly. 

“There's more to being a warrior than fighting, Fernpaw. What good is fighting when we haven't eaten?” 

“Tell that to Ashpaw!” She sneered. “He thinks he's king of the forest just because he took down Dustpelt with a move he'd been shown as a kit. Stupid toms don't know when someone's going easy on them.” 

“That's no excuse to prance around without a care in the world. You don't see Splashpaw doing that when Cloudpaw gets a big head.” 

“Splashpaw used to be afraid of her own shadow.” Fernpaw scoffed. 

“Then maybe you should take a lesson from her. A little fear is good for you.” 

“Fear gets you killed.” She countered. 

“It lets you know when something stronger than you is around and gives you the reflexes to flee.” Fireheart sighed. 

“Who needs to run when you can fight?” Fernpaw snickered, rearing up on her hindpaws and swiping at the air.

Irritation roiled through her ginger mentor, and without thinking he lunged for the smaller she-cat. 

Having played with Nutleaf's kits when they were younger and having Silverstream's kits clamber over him, he didn't even have to think about how gentle he needed to be. He'd actually done this to a giggling Splashpaw just the other day. The only difference was that he was angry and Fernpaw was unaware.

Predictably enough, the little grey female went down with a shocked squeal. Fireheart skipped sideways to avoid truly crashing into her and found himself a quarter way up a tree. He scampered down with ease and watched his apprentice stumble to her paws. 

“I’m telling my parents!” She wailed before storming off to camp. Fireheart chuckled and picked up the bird. Featherkit would have begged him to do it again and Splashpaw would have clambered onto his back. He'd have to earn the regard of this apprentice, and with the way things were going, that would be quite the challenge. 

“Fernpaw tells me you attacked her without warning.” Darkstripe offered upon his return. The black tabby tom's eyes gleamed with amusement, letting Fireheart know that he wanted the truth. 

“She was halfway right.” His daughter's mentor offered. “It was less of an attack and more like what Featherkit tries to get you to do when she wants to play.” 

“So Fernpaw was running around you saying ‘come on, hit me!’ like a little weasel?” Darkstripe snickered. 

“She actually caught the prey I was going for. Was loud as a woodpecker, but she caught it.”

“So what's the problem?” 

“She didn't take well to me correcting her. And doesn't listen for anything. I'm sorry, Darkstripe, but sometimes I just want to cuff her around the ears.” 

“Feel free.” The other warrior snorted. “We spoiled the pair of them because we lost the other three and almost lost Fernkit, but that's no reason for either of them to be difficult.” 

“Dustpelt's come to you as well?” 

“He has.” Darkstripe confirmed with a nod. “To be quite honest… I'm not so sure I'm doing right by my kits. I know Brindleface loves me, I'll always love her, but…” 

“You don't think you're setting a good example?” Fireheart queried. “Surely someone would stop you if they thought you were too hard on them?” 

“Sure, the queens would definitely try. But outside of them… who's left?” 

Darkstripe brought up a very good point. Tigerclaw had been his mentor, had been _the_ cat to look up to for most of ThunderClan. The revelation of his traitorous ways had been a heavy blow to many of its members. 

_Even me._ Fireheart stifled a growl and shook himself out. 

“Halftail probably had kits at some point. Why don't you see what the elders have to say.” The ginger tom advised. Darkstripe tilted his head as he mulled it over before finally nodding.

“That's a good idea.” He acknowledged. “I'll pass on anything interesting I hear from them.” 

“Please do.” Fireheart chirped. “I have to work out patrols. Maybe we can hunt later.” 

“Yeah, sure.” Darkstripe offered before the pair went their separate ways.

The past few moons had really mellowed Darkstripe out. Especially considering how much support he'd offered his mother in getting over her own issues, and how he'd had his nose to the ground in searching for his brother. 

Greystripe was in RiverClan now, with the rest of Silverstream's kin. Before, the large grey tom had been a pureblood ThunderClan cat with his own apprentice. Granted, he hadn't done a very good job with Brackenheart. It was thanks to his former denmates that the golden-brown tom had gotten any training at all. 

“Okay, so who's in camp right now?” Fireheart muttered to himself. 

“Brackenheart can go on a hunting patrol with Mousefur and one other cat. Runningwind can do a border patrol with Cinderpelt, and I'm pretty sure since Longtail and Swiftclaw are out for the day, they can be the evening patrol with Whitestorm.” Fireheart mused as he padded toward the warriors den. 

Sure enough, he poked his head in to find that Mousefur, Sandstorm and Cinderpelt were talking. 

“You three up for patrols?” 

The she-cats nodded and Sandstorm was the first on her paws, bounding over to touch noses with him. 

“You left before sunrise.” She murmured, eyes worried. 

“I'm fine.” He insisted. “Just wanted to test Fernpaw and get some early morning hunting done. I need you to sniff around the ShadowClan border with Mousefur and Brackenheart.” 

“Where am I going?” Cinderpelt wondered, ever eager. 

“With Runningwind to the RiverClan border. Feel free to take your apprentices, the more the merrier. But guys… keep an eye out. Please.” 

The she-cats nodded soberly before loping out of the den to do as asked. Patchpaw could use the hunting experience, and he prayed to StarClan that Lightpaw wouldn't have to go through what he had not even half a moon ago. Tigerclaw's treachery had shaken the entire Clan, but Lightpaw had been the first to warn the Clan about the incoming attack.

With those thoughts sharp in his mind, he backed out of the warrior den and came across his only niece. 

“Hi Splashpaw, been hunting?” He noticed, gesturing to the fresh-kill in her mouth.

The apprentice nodded and flicked her tail towards the pile of prey that the cats in camp took from. So Fireheart padded along as she set her prey on the pile and waited for her to speak.

“Cinderpelt startled a sparrow toward me.” She offered. “Then I caught one that was nibbling on the ground. And then a squirrel.” 

“That's quite impressive.” Fireheart offered. Splashpaw and her siblings had been made apprentices around the time their mother had been recognized as a medicine cat apprentice. All of them took to their roles in Clan life wonderfully, and Fireheart was glad for it. 

“Would you like to see one of the fighting moves Cloudpaw showed me?” She chirped. 

“I'd love to, Splashpaw. I need to make sure the elders have eaten, though. How would you like to show them your new moves as well?” 

Splashpaw, predictably, froze up at the thought. Like her mother, the tortoiseshell was not comfortable with too many cats in such small spaces, especially when they all focused on her. 

“Um… okay?” She squeaked out. “I guess if it's just the elders?” 

“That's great!” Fireheart exclaimed. “I'm sure they'll be proud of you no matter what you show them. I know I am.” He purred reassuringly. Splashpaw trilled happily and shuffled her paws. 

“I'm going to practice.” She mumbled before she dashed toward where the elders resided. Fireheart chuckled, picked up a few things from the fresh-kill pile, and made to join his niece. 

_If only Fernpaw could be that ridiculously eager…_

Well, it wasn't her eagerness that was the problem. Like Cinderpelt before her, Fernpaw was easily excited. The issue was that she had no way of knowing right from wrong and didn't like other cats telling her what to do. It would get her killed someday, and Fireheart didn't envy having to tell her parents why she wouldn't be getting her warrior name. 

Fireheart shook himself out and set the prey down before the cats in the den. 

Smallear accepted a sparrow with a dark snort, but tucked into it gratefully enough. One-eye was a bit kinder about it, meowing her greetings and commenting on Splashpaw's form. 

“Try narrowing your stance a bit, dear. I can't see all that well but the vibrations your paws make tell me that you might stumble mid-pounce.” 

Splashpaw nodded her thanks and adjusted her paws. 

“That feels better.” One-eye chirped. Halftail nodded agreeingly. 

“Looks better too. You'll make a warrior yet, Splashpaw.” He offered. “Thank you, Fireheart.” He meowed around the mouse he received. 

Dappletail slept deeply, so the mouse went between her paws. Patchpelt flicked his tail in thanks, but was too deep in thought to bother with food. 

_What could worry him so?_

The youngest elder was often found in a good mood, and the fact that he wasn't paying attention to anything around him might be worth noting. 

“Alright, Patchpelt?” Fireheart wondered, nudging the squirrel toward him. 

The tom's tail twitched and he jerked to life heartbeats later.

“Yes, of course. Just thinking about Snowkit.” 

Snowkit… 

Nutleaf had mentioned a while back that Speckletail was often fretful of her son. The young tom was half a moon older than Bramblekit and Tawnykit, and preferred to watch the camp from his mother's side. He was more cautious than the other two, and smaller to boot. Recalling what he did of Snowkit's previous life, Fireheart didn't see the white tom’s future being all that great. 

_You're here to change that, remember? One-eye talks about vibrations all the time. She might have some ideas._

“I'll check on him.” Fireheart offered warily.

The black and white elder nodded thankfully and tucked into his meal. 

The ginger tom turned away from the elders’ den, leaving them to be impressed by Splashpaw, and padded along the edge of the clearing. As he approached the nursery, Fireheart stared at the ground, thoughts racing. A sudden movement outside the nursery entrance made him look up.

Bramblekit and Tawnykit tumbled out of the nursery, Snowkit prancing along anxiously. 

“Don't squish her!” He yelped as Tawnykit was smothered in brown tabby fur. His voice was a bit louder than it needed to be, but not the shriek that accompanied danger. 

Bramblekit hopped off his sister and bounded over to the white kit. 

“Palefur is fine.” The dark-furred tom murmured. Snowkit nodded and flicked his tail. 

“Palefur is fine?” He called a bit louder. Tawnykit sprang from where she lay a fox-length away and padded over to join them. She nudged Snowkit into a sitting position and his eyes widened. He placed a paw on her neck and she spoke. 

“Can you make your voice low?” She asked. “I'm not hurt.” She proclaimed. 

Snowkit nodded and padded over to Goldenflower, who lay by the entrance watching them play. 

“Palefur is not hurt.” He offered happily. “Stripe looked too big.” 

Goldenflower bent so that her muzzle was at Snowkit’s eyes before she spoke.

“Very good, Snow. I'm glad you were able to see that.” She said slowly. 

He beamed at her and shifted in place a bit before racing back to where Bramblekit and Tawnykit waited for him. 

Goldenflower raised her head to see Fireheart gaping at them and snorted. 

“Is something wrong, dear?” She asked, eyes amused. 

Fireheart shook himself out and padded over to the nursery. 

“Has everyone eaten?” He asked. Goldenflower nodded. 

“We're all fine, thank you for asking. That's not your only concern, is it?” She asked gently. 

“I was just wondering how you three managed to talk to Snowkit. It's an interesting system you used. Would you be willing to teach me?”

Goldenflower blinked, surprised. 

“Of course.” She purred. “I'm not entirely sure how it works myself, but Bramblekit and Tawnykit can tell you everything you need to know.” 

“Does Speckletail know about this?” Fireheart wondered. Goldenflower seemed to deflate. 

“Poor girl doesn't seem to have much life in her these days.” She murmured quietly. “We take care of her the best way we know how, but I think the death of Snowkit's siblings has taken too big a toll.” 

Fireheart winced. If Snowkit was still here and Speckletail was so downtrodden, what would happen if ThunderClan couldn't save the white kit? 

The ginger tom shook himself out and thanked Goldenflower, who watched him go with a concerned expression. He had to see what Bluestar was up to and then find Fernpaw. They weren't done hunting today, and she needed a fighting lesson.

“Good morning, Bluestar.” He called into the lichen that draped the entrance. 

“Firepaw, come in!” She chirped back happily. 

Fireheart ignored the pang of hurt that he felt. 

_She's not calling me an apprentice._ The ginger tom reminded himself. _She thinks it's earlier than it is._

“I was just thinking about you and your denmates. You did well running Brokenstar out of ShadowClan.” 

“Thank you, Bluestar.” Fireheart murmured uneasily. 

“You don't normally ask for a meeting unless there's something you want to talk about. Are Brindleface’s kits ready to be apprenticed? She did wonderfully looking after Sandstorm once Tulipwood couldn't. Poor molly was sick as a rat, she was… I never like seeing kits lose their loved ones so young. It's not fair to anyone.” 

Fireheart fought the urge to shuffle his paws awkwardly as Bluestar's eyes clouded with sorrow. Then her gaze cleared and she turned back to her former apprentice. 

“Tell me about Brindleface's kits. I hear one of them isn't all that well in the head?” 

Fireheart blinked, surprised that she'd picked up on Snowkit's hearing problem. 

“Snowkit can't hear, but Bramblekit and Tawnykit have come up with a way to communicate. If they can explain it to the Clan then he should be able to be apprenticed alongside his siblings.” 

“I knew a Snowkit once. She was all white with black ears and blue eyes.” Bluestar purred fondly. “She was lucky not to have this Snowkit's hearing problems.” 

“What happened to her?” Fireheart coaxed. 

“She grew up to be a warrior, of course. We all did, in that day. Just ask Lionheart. He can tell you exactly what I mean. In fact, I could use a walk around camp. I'll get him.” 

“You might want to wait a bit, Bluestar.” Fireheart offered, struggling not to show his panic. “Lionheart might be cheerful as ever, but he is definitely _not_ a morning cat. Why don't I get Whitestorm to wake him instead?” 

“Oh yes, that's a much better idea. Poor fool adored the snow but despised being out of bed half the time. Mouse-brain he was, sometimes.” She chuckled fondly. “Go and get them for me. Whitestorm's been rather quiet lately.” 

Whitestorm was fussing over his heavily pregnant mate. Since Willowpelt had moved to the nursery, the white tom had been hysterical, practically racing around camp to accommodate her. 

“Oh StarClan, if this is how he reacts now, just wait until she actually gives birth.” Brindleface snickered. 

“Let the poor tom worry. At least he's being constructive.” Speckletail chuckled. 

“Oh look, Fireheart's heading this way.” The grey and white queen chirped. 

“Good morning, dear, something you need?” 

“Have either of you seen Whitestorm today?” The ginger tom asked frantically. 

“He's in the nursery, sweetheart, there's nothing to worry about. What's troubling you, little one?” Speckletail cooed. 

“Bluestar isn't having the best of days.” The deputy admitted hesitantly. “It would seem that Tigerclaw was right about her not being all there.” 

“Ah, yes, I remember Goosefeather perfectly fine.” Speckletail murmured. “It must run in the family. Does she want to see Whitestorm, then?” 

“And… and Lionheart.” Fireheart mumbled. 

“Oh…” Brindleface coughed. “I can see why that would be a problem.” 

“Why don't we go inside the nursery and get Whitestorm. Perhaps Goldenflower would be willing to keep Bluestar company today.” Speckletail mused. 

“That's brilliant!” Fireheart crowed, hopping from paw to paw. “Thank you, both of you! And Speckletail, I just want you to know, I saw Snowkit, Bramblekit and Tawnykit playing earlier. The way they talk is a really good idea, and if we combine that with the tail-flicks and everything else, Snowkit could make a warrior yet.” 

Speckletail seemed to brighten at the news. 

“Oh, that's a marvelous idea!” She purred as she ambled to her paws, leaning on Brindleface's lithe frame. 

The three of them padded to the nursery’s entrance just as Whitestorm slithered out. 

“You're just the cat we need to see.” Brindleface snorted. “Bluestar's not having the best of days. She's calling for you and Lionheart.” 

The snow-pelted tom stiffened. 

“So it's begun.” He murmured ominously. 

“Afraid so.” Speckletail offered sympathetically. “We were thinking that maybe Goldenflower could spend some time with Bluestar.” 

“Yes, that would make the most sense…” Whitestorm muttered, eyes wild. 

“Go find your aunt, young’un. Goldenflower will join you in a few heartbeats.” Speckletail insisted. “Willowpelt will be fine, dear one. At the very least, she's not leaving the nursery for long.” 

Whitestorm dipped his head in thanks and dashed for the Highrock. 

“Goldenflower, sweetness, can you come do us a huge favor?” Speckletail croaked. Fireheart made a note to drop water off to the elders or see if there was something to soothe hoarse throats in Yellowfang's den. 

The yellow-brown mother poked her head out of the nursery. 

“What can I do for you?” She whispered. “The kits have finally stopped playing, so I bet I can spare some time.” 

“Bluestar’s mind isn't in the best shape. She's calling for Whitestorm and Lionheart.” 

“Oh…” Goldenflower's gaze clouded with sadness as she recalled her brother's death many moons ago. “Yes, of course I'll sit with Bluestar. Please let me know if anyone misbehaves. They're supposed to be asleep by now.” 

“We've got this well in paw, sweetness. Thank you.” 

“Of course.” Goldenflower rubbed muzzles with the pair of queens and followed Fireheart to her leader's den. 

“Bluestar, Lionheart is hunting for the day but I'm more than happy to sit with you.” Goldenflower offered. 

“Yes, of course, you sweet girl.” Bluestar purred invitingly. “Come in, come in, both of you. I was just telling Whitestorm about the time Frostfur and Brindleface went for battle practice with Whitestorm and Tigerclaw as apprentices. Frostpaw got her ear nicked and poor Robinwing was furious about it.” 

“Bluestar, that happened to me.” Goldenflower snickered. “I remember that day as if it occurred moments ago. Speckletail was so horrified!” 

“Oh yes, yes. Frostfur was my apprentice later on. You were quite the fierce fighter, Goldenflower. All that energy must go into protecting the nursery. How are your kits and brother?” 

Surprise flickered through every cat's eyes. Fireheart hadn't known who Goldenflower's mother was and the other two hadn't expected her to be as sharp as she was, having seen Fireheart so flustered earlier. 

“They're all fine, thank you. They should be sleeping. If they're not then when I get back there they'll be helping with so many apprentice chores that they'll wish they had.” Goldenflower snapped playfully. 

“They're energetic, then. I know Snowkit has a hearing problem but Fireheart tells me you're working with him. How's that going?” 

“He's a lot like One-eye, in that he can tell what we're saying if he's close enough because he can feel the noise our bodies make. He can also read lips. He can copy Bramblekit’s attempt at a hunting crouch better than Bramblekit can actually do it! You bet I was surprised when that happened.” 

“Well he is a bit older. I'm glad he picked up a few things to help him along. His journey might be harder than most, but if he can become an asset to our Clan then it will be worth it. He's awful quiet, isn't he? Has he shown any interest in fighting?” 

“A little. He mostly prefers being with Speckletail.” 

“Hm… we can put him with the medicine cats for some time. If he feels comfortable there he can stay there. He'll learn to hunt and a few fighting moves just like Nutleaf has, but if he doesn't want to fight and there's a better chance of him getting hurt, I'd rather have Snowkit be safe than sorry about what anyone says.” 

“And if he wants to be a warrior?” Whitestorm questioned. 

“Someone will mentor him, I'm sure. Darkstripe seems rather down these days. Maybe an apprentice can soothe his spirits.”

Darkstripe was reeling from Tigerclaw's betrayal these days. Everyone was, since nowhere near enough time has passed to start going on with life, but he'd rightfully taken it harder than most. 

“I think we might be getting ahead of ourselves, Bluestar.” Whitestorm offered warily. “It's a good idea, but Snowkit doesn't seem to know what he wants to do. Can we push him into a choice he doesn't know he has?” 

“That'll be Firepaw’s job, of course. He's caring for rogue medicine cats, why not add a deaf kit to the mix?” 

Whitestorm and Goldenflower were bristling now, both startled by Bluestar's abrupt change in attitude. 

“I plan on taking him out later for some hunting practice, but right now I’ll have a nap. Send him over around sunhigh, will you, Redtail?” 

“Of course, Bluestar.” Whitestorm spoke quickly and flicked his tail to Fireheart and Goldenflower. “He'll be over at sunhigh.”


	3. Chapter Two

#  **Chapter Two**

A large white cat crouched beside a much frailer, far thinner darkpelted one. They were in a clearing surrounded by herbs and the smaller one wheezed and writhed on the ground. Every so often, when he stopped, the white cat leaned down to make sure his older companion still lived. He couldn't lose his mentoring now. Not when there was so much at stake. It was a good thing that the medicine den was not too far from the leader's. The elder of the pair hadn't had to exert himself too much when he was relatively healthy, and that was likely the only reason he still lived. 

“We have far too much work to do for you to join your parents.” The white tom insisted quietly. “I have tried not to admit too much weakness, but you taught me well. I cannot lead these cats without you. I was Broken- I was Brokentail’s deputy for a reason.” 

_That matters not,_ the old dark tom would insist. _He is not here, and you are. You have been taught well._

They'd had this conversation before, at first, when Blackfoot had been expected to step up and lead the Clan as it was told in the rules set down by StarClan. 

StarClan… if those faded fools existed then they were having a wonderful time watching the Clan suffer. 

Perhaps not… the rest of his cats were smart. They wouldn't believe in malicious ancestors even in times like these. 

A black cat with navy blue eyes siddled into the clearing and set prey before the larger tom.

“Eat.” Darkflower ordered. “There isn't much use in wasting away along with him.” 

“Do you believe in StarClan?” The white tom wondered absently. “Brokenstar never allowed much talk about them. Suppose they're our Clanmates made whole again, just watching as we live our lives and waiting for us to join them.” 

“That is the common belief, yes.” Darkflower murmured bitterly. “I'd like to think that my kits can see me. Lately, the idea that they don't need me yet is all that keeps me here.” 

“The Clan does need you more.” The white tom agreed amicably. “You are an asset to ShadowClan, and we need all those we can spare.” 

“How long have you been thinking about this?” Darkflower wondered, slightly alarmed. 

“Nightpelt can't leave yet.” The white tom insisted. “I cannot lead this Clan on my own.” 

“That is why there are deputies.” 

“Who is left to take on such a task?” He scowled. “It's bad enough we're going through this and at each other's throats for all that, but to appoint a deputy would mean all your anger and rage would turn to them as well as I. At least with Nightpelt around, there is reason to be had.” 

“There is not.” A new voice scowled. The white tom's head snapped up and he glared at the cat who spoke. 

“Fresh herbs, surprisingly. At least those weren't affected by this plague.” 

The new cat was a gray and white tabby with an illness that StarClan themselves likely couldn't cure. He held precious herbs between his teeth just so, and they remained whole when he set them down. 

“You can share that lizard, the two of you. I took from the pile already. And there is no more reason with Nightpelt here than without. I will do my best to save him because he, of all of us, deserves to be saved, but you were always meant to be leader, Blackfoot. Now eat.” Runningnose ordered sharply as he set to mixing some of the herbs he'd just brought.

The white tom exhaled roughly and leaned forward to pull the lizard towards him, revealing dark muddied paws as he ripped the lizard into smaller pieces with sharp claws. Nightpelt couldn't eat a lot at one time, but he would get food all the same. Blackfoot chomped at the rest of the lizard, gnawing in the stringy meat irritably as he took in the medicine cat's words.

“You believe I am ready?” 

“I believe you hold back out of fear, and that will not change what needs to be done.” 

“You honestly think I can face StarClan after all I've done? And that's if they're even _real_!” 

“They are.” Runningnose insisted. “You must travel to the Moonstone to receive your lives.” 

“If I leave now it will be to a Clan in shambles and a cat just on the verge of death!” 

“All our cats are just on the verge of death!” Darkflower snarled. “There is no point in waiting.” 

“Then what will my having more lives help?! If I could give one to each of you, that would at least be making progress, but there is nothing that would change whether I sleep by the Moonstone or not.” 

“Well at least you could start trying to lead the Clan instead of letting us rot alongside Nightpelt!” 

“You act like we would be any different if it hadn't been for the elders getting outside help.” Blackfoot sneered. “Why?! StarClan approved of Brokenstar and look what he did! Look where he left us! Who's to say that they would even give me lives after a monster like that?!” 

“We won't know until you go to the Moonstone!” Runningnose snapped. “The signs we are given cannot come to pass if no one will act on them!” 

“Then maybe they shouldn't.” Blackfoot snorted. “But we will need better prey, so at the very least I can change that. Find some of our more sturdy cats that can travel-.” 

“Are you going to be leader?” 

“We need prey more than I need lives. Get a patrol to search the other end of the territory. We're done scrapping around in Twoleg territory. We're not town cats.” 

“I'll see who's up for it. What happens if they come back empty-pawed?” 

“Then we'll find something new.” Blackfoot snorted. “Who knows, perhaps those kits can convince someone to send another sign. A more helpful one than _what ShadowClan was meant to be_.”

“Our ancestors send their regards in their own time, Blackfoot. Let it be enough that they would commune with us at all.” Runningnose sighed. 

“Our ancestors are watching us starve or eat disease-riddled prey to succumb to that ourselves. It seems clear what they think of us.” Blackfoot scoffed before turning to Darkflower. 

“I've eaten and there is a plan to find better food. I might even walk around camp later on. Does this curb your tongue?” 

“It does.” Darkflower dipped her head and rose to her paws. “And I shall spread the news. You could be a leader yet.” 

“...Lightstep, we need a few of the more sturdier cats around to go further out in finding prey. We're spread thin as it is, and Blackstar doesn't think it's a good idea to go back to the Carrion Place.” 

Darkflower was handling cats like she had been born to it when Blackfoot entered the clearing not long after their conversation. Satisfied that Nightpelt had eaten something and convinced by Runningnose that he truly wasn't being useful, Blackfoot figured that checking on _all_ cats in the Clan would be closer to what Nightpelt would do. Rather guiltily, he noticed that the sun had been down for quite a while, though it was nowhere near moonhigh yet. 

“Come to greet us at last?” One warrior, Palefoot, scowled. 

“At least he made a decision about our hunting practices.” Stumpytail snorted. 

“He didn't have long before Nightstar got sick, and Brokentail's way of doing things was life for most of us. Can you blame him for trying to keep his paws steady before he goes around calling himself Blackstar?”

“Well the other Clans sure do. We don't exactly correct them. Why not make it official?” Someone new called out. 

“If I could give you all a life in return for your hard work and dedication, I would.” Blackfoot offered solemnly. “As it is, if no one needs anything I have to offer, I'll be going to the Moonstone. Even if StarClan doesn't think I should be leader, I can bring back some proof that they exist.” 

The small crowd that made up the Clan broke into cheers at the hope that Blackfoot would finally see their ancestors and bring back good news. 

“Take the apprentices with you!” 

“Littlepaw, Whitepaw, Oakpaw, I know you're in that den!” 

“Oakpaw’s had enough journeying to last a lifetime!” Someone objected. 

“Not to see his ancestors!” 

“He has to come with us.” Littlepaw offered quietly. “We need all the warriors we can spare here at camp. I'd be honored to accompany Blackfoot to guidance from our ancestors.” 

“We all would.” Whitepaw insisted boldly. “And Oakpaw has the most experience outside of camp. We can do it!” 

“Oh, alright then.” Darkflower sighed. “But please come back. We need you four here as well.” 

With hearty mews of good luck, the three ShadowClan apprentices set out to help their future leader find StarClan. 


	4. Chapter Three

#  **Chapter Three**

Sunhigh came and went, and Fireheart had not scented even a whiff of his apprentice. Her anger from the events of this morning didn't give her the right to go haring off into the forest without a second thought! _Especially when Tigerclaw is still out there…_

Fireheart would always see how he handled the former deputy’s actions as his greatest failure. More than anything, Tigerclaw's betrayal and the events that stemmed from it were some of the darkest times in ThunderClan. 

_And now it's happening all over again!_ Fireheart wanted to wail. _Nevermind that, there are bigger things than Tigerclaw in the forest! I have to find Fernpaw!_

“You look like a pack of dogs is at your heels.” 

The exact cat that he needed to see announced their presence and Fireheart ducked his head. 

“Darkstripe, thank StarClan. I, uh… I think I lost Fernpaw.” He admitted guiltily. 

“She probably got sick of waiting for you to finish up with Bluestar and went off on her own, stubborn brat.” Darkstripe snorted. Upon seeing the ginger tom's face, he backtracked. 

“It is not your fault that she ran off. I love my daughter, but she likes to take her fate into her own paws.” The silver-black tom sighed. 

“Want to get a few more cats and split up to look?” 

“I… yes. That's a good idea. Maybe Brightstorm and Thornclaw. They're young, so she might be more willing to listen to them.” Fireheart admitted. 

“Don't be too hard on yourself, Fireheart. It's not easy being deputy.” Darkstripe offered before heading for the warriors den. 

_Yeah, but I've done this before. I should have a better handle on it!_

Darkstripe returned with Brightstorm and Thornclaw, both with worried looks on their faces. 

“Darkstripe said you want help finding Fernpaw?” Thornclaw murmured when he reached the deputy. “Why would any cat be on their own in the forest, much less an apprentice?” 

“I was going to take her to the Sandy Hollow to practice battle moves when I was done in camp, but I didn't get to tell her that because she interrupted my hunt and stormed off when I tried actually teaching her. I thought she went back to camp but I haven't seen her since.” Fireheart explained quickly. 

“She did come back to camp at some point. She and Splashpaw chatted for a bit while taking care of the elders, but she must have gone back out again.” Brightstorm offered. Runningwind joined them seconds later. 

“Have any of you seen Lightpaw lately? I was going to take him hunting but he seems to have gone out on his own.” 

“StarClan's kits!” Fireheart groaned. 

“Hopefully he's with Fernpaw.” Darkstripe sighed. “We should-.” 

“ThunderClan, we gather!” Bluestar called. Fireheart exhaled roughly as cats came crawling out of their dens. 

“Fireheart! Where do you think you're going?!” Bluestar snapped from atop Highrock. 

“Lightpaw and Fernpaw have gone missing.” Runningwind reported. “Fireheart was organizing a patrol to go look for them.”

“Fireheart neglected to mention that Splashpaw and Cloudpaw would need new mentors.”

“What? Why would they-?” 

“Clan custom allows for mates to stay together when they raise kits.” Thornclaw offered quietly. 

“Thank you, Brackenpaw, for telling the deputy of the Clan what he should already know!” Bluestar sneered. 

“You can't expect everyone to know things that you haven't told them!” Halftail snapped from where the elders sat. “You know what you were like as a youngster, you have to know that pressuring your apprentice gets you nowhere! And if you don't then I call foxdung because Stonepelt and I have shared plenty of stories about mouse-brained apprentices who think they have to be the best at everything.” 

“This is not the time to lecture me about being leader, Sparrowpelt! I want to know why Fireheart didn't do his job.” 

“Because you gave him an apprentice, Bluestar, and Fernpaw was out hunting with him. He was going to come back and patrol with you but he wanted to practice with her first.” Brindleface insisted. 

“Alright.” Bluestar growled irritably. “Splashpaw, until Whitestorm and Willowpelt’s kits are six moons old, your mentor will be Darkstripe. Cloudpaw, until Whitestorm and Willowpelt’s kits are six moons old, your mentor will be Frostfur. Good luck with apprenticeship.” 

“Why would she do that?” Darkstripe wondered. “I already have trouble with my own kits, I can't mentor someone else's!” 

“You're doing just fine with Ashpaw and Fernpaw. Besides, Splashpaw might be interested in where her fellow apprentices keep wandering off to. It'll be good to keep her close.” Thornclaw offered as Splashpaw approached the group. 

“What's happening?” The tortoiseshell wondered. 

“Lightpaw and Fernpaw aren't in camp so we're going to find them. I need you to stick with Darkstripe and at least one of these other cats. It's not safe to be out in the forest alone. Are we understood, Splashpaw?” 

“Yes, Fireheart. Just tell me where to start sniffing.” Splashpaw meowed, obviously on edge. 

The group headed into the forest, noses to the ground and determined to find their missing kin. 

“Remind me again why you thought walking the outskirts of Twolegplace was a good idea?” 

Fernpaw had met Lightpaw deep into her search for the Sandy Hollow, and somehow he talked her into helping him find his father. Everyone knew that Nutleaf had her kits before she became the medicine cat, and many of the older cats didn't really interact with their parents. Fernpaw had no clue why Lightpaw was so interested in some cat who couldn't be bothered to be there for him when there was a whole group of cats who would willingly go into battle for them! But Lightpaw was determined to find his father. 

“You don't know what it's like.” Lightpaw spat when she asked. “You at least have Darkstripe.” 

“And you have Fireheart.” She countered. 

“It's not the same!” Lightpaw scowled. “Fireheart has Stormkit and Featherkit to raise. He tells them about their parents every chance he gets. I want to know where I came from.”

“You know where you came from, Lightpaw. We grew up in the exact same nursery and your mother raised you well. Why isn't that enough?” 

“I just need to know for sure! He could be anyone and I hate the uncertainty of it all.” 

“So why do you think about it so much?! Any tom in the Clan would stop and play with you or tell you stories or give you badger rides if you asked. That doesn't stop just because you became an apprentice.” 

“I'm telling you that you just don't get it.” Lightpaw groused. “But you don't have to. Are you going to help me or keep acting like you know what I'm going through?” He sneered. 

“You're lucky I don't want to be lost in Twolegplace or I'd have left you to fend for yourself, you ungrateful piece of foxdung!” Fernpaw snapped. 

The pair padded along, with Lightpaw stopping to ask random cats if they knew who his mother had mated with. It turned out that Princess and Rusty, as Nutleaf and Fireheart had once been called, had quite a few friends who remembered them and were more than happy to find that the siblings were alright where they ended up. Lightpaw heard dozens of stories of Rusty climbing alley walls in his youth and Princess sniffing at flowers and bringing them home for her owners. Unfortunately, none of them could tell him who his father was, and all of them urged him to talk to his mother. 

The sun set on a couple of tired cats who trudged along the outskirts of the forest, scenting the air for anything familiar, just a whiff of what reminded them of home.

“I'm never following you again.” Fernpaw panted. 

“Fine by me.” Lightpaw sighed. The light brown tom was no less determined to find his sire, but perhaps a bit of rest would be nice. 

“Lightpaw! Fernpaw!” A familiar voice called out. “Can anyone hear me?!” 

“Splashpaw!” Fernpaw yelped, scrambling towards the direction of her friend's voice. Lightpaw wasn't far behind, and eventually they crashed headfirst into the tortoiseshell.

“Thank StarClan! We thought we'd never find you.” A familiar voice sighed, relieved. 

“Darkstripe…” Fernpaw groaned, scuffing her paws on the ground. “Great. Now I'll never get to see the light of day again.” 

“Quit being so dramatic.” Lightpaw scoffed. “At this rate, I thought we would have to spend the night in a tree!” 

“You don't know how to climb.” Fernpaw sneered. “And this is your fault! If you hadn't gone on about your mousebrained father-!”

“Hey!” Darkstripe began, lifting a paw to split the pair.

“You didn't have to come with me!” Lightpaw snarled. “I didn't ask for your help and you've been nothing but a fox-heart the entire time! It's no wonder Fireheart hates training you! You're not good enough for him!” 

“Hey!” Darkstripe and Splashpaw snapped at the exact same time, and Splashpaw tackled her brother to the ground. 

“Fireheart loves mentoring Fernpaw, so you take that back right now!” 

Lightpaw deflated. 

“I know she's your friend and all-.” 

“I'm saying that because it's true. It doesn't matter that she's my friend, you're being a load of mousedirt and you know it!” 

“Well-!” 

“That's enough out of you all!” Darkstripe snarled. “Look, we are going to find the rest of the patrol, we are going back to camp, and you three will go straight to bed. If you need food, I'll bring it to you. Are we clear?!” 

“Yes, Darkstripe.” The apprentices droned. 

“It's been a long day, guys. I'm sure things will look better after you've gotten some sleep.” 

“Right, like I'll ever find my father.” Lightpaw grumbled. 

“We'll talk about that tomorrow too.” Darkstripe assured the light brown tabby. 

Brindleface had been worried out of her fur, pacing the length of the camp as the night waned on. Nutleaf lay absolutely still, save for the slightest twitch of her tail. 

“... I just know she's been giving Fireheart a hard time. On top of everything else that poor tom has to deal with, a foolish girl with no regard for anyone's safety should not be the load on his paws! I'm of half a mind to ask Bluestar what in the world she was thinking, piling all this on top of him-!” Brindleface raged.

“Bluestar hasn't been in the best state.” Nutleaf admitted quietly. 

The grey and white tabby ceased her pacing and dropped to the ground. 

“I know.” She sighed heavily. “And it's not her fault. It's not your fault, or mine, or Fireheart's, or even our kits… they just wanted to know.” Brindleface grumbled. 

“I've been sheltering them.” Nutleaf murmured bitterly. 

“We all have, dear. It's what we do as parents.” 

Goldenflower slipped out of the nursery in the cover of night. She thanked all the stars in the sky that her four were as comfortable with Speckletail as they were with her. Nutleaf needed her more, it seemed. 

“I wonder if I should tell them.” The brown and white she-cat went on. “It's not like he was a bad cat, he just… it wasn't supposed to be permanent. We had an understanding. He moved on and so did I. How am I supposed to tell them that their father didn't expect to be in their lives?” 

“You tell them that he's glad for them, but that he couldn't help you as much as he wanted to. Say that the Twolegs wouldn't allow it.” 

“They didn't.” Nutleaf snorted. “He asked to see them more than a few times, and he did. He knows they exist. But he was a roamer. We both knew he wouldn't stay. I was okay with that.” 

“They're children, dear. All they see is that some cats have two parents and wonder why they don't.” Goldenflower's tone turned sharp and Nutleaf eased out a shaky breath. 

“I'm sorry… this can't be easy for you.” She offered awkwardly. 

“It's not anyone's fault but Tigerclaw's.” The yellow she-cat snorted. “And I have time to think of what I want to say.” 


	5. Chapter Four

#  **Chapter Four**

It took the patrol half a day to reach the edge of the territory. It was sunhigh by the time they reached the Thunderpath, and Blackfoot found that it was busier than usual. A monster passed every few heartbeats, and half the time the ground rumbled under their paws. 

“You’re going one by one and I'll cover each of you as you go.” Blackfoot informed the apprentices. “You're all small enough to crouch under me and you know what to do when a monster comes.” 

“Flatten ourselves and avoid the legs.” The apprentices repeated dutifully. 

“Good. The way is clear right now, so I'll take Littlepaw first. Let's go.” 

Littlepaw's brown tabby coat was instantly smothered by Blackfoot's pure white one, and all the was left visible were his short, striped legs. 

“Go!” Oakpaw and Whitepaw called out. Littlepaw shot out onto the Thunderpath and Blackfoot leapt forward, overtaking him in an instant. Blackfoot didn't seem to be impatient with trotting across to Littlepaw's dead sprint, but no monsters came and Littlepaw collapsed, panting as soon as their paws hit grass. Blackfoot nudged him deeper into the grass and sniffed at his pelt before turning turning back and darting across the Thunderpath, quick as lightning. 

Whitepaw was next, and he was practically an extension of Blackfoot. It almost looked like the ShadowClan leader had two white front legs, they ran so fast. Whitepaw threw himself down next to Littlepaw and buried his face in the brown tom's flank. 

Blackfoot turned back and trotted out onto the Thunderpath, but the ground rumbled beneath his paws. Blackfoot froze as an enormous monster with far more than the usual four legs approached like a large snake, eyes glittering brightly in the night. 

“Duck and roll!” Whitepaw screeched as loud as he could. Blackfoot moved at the last second as the monster rolled over him. 

“ _Blackstar_!” The apprentices howled as the monster rumbled on. 

Oakpaw knew that he couldn't move until the monster had passed. Throwing himself at the large beast's grimy surface would do nothing but get him killed, and Oakpaw did not want to die. 

But waiting for the monster to pass was agonizing. Had Blackfoot done as they all trained? Had the monster crushed him anyway? Could StarClan give nine lives to an injured cat?! 

The Thunderpath finally cleared and Blackfoot didn't move for a few heartbeats. Then, slowly, he got to his paws and shook himself out. 

“Thank StarClan!” Littlepaw gasped out as Blackfoot leapt across the shiny surface, grabbed Oakpaw by the scruff, and raced back across to join the other two apprentices. 

The ShadowClan cats huddled around their leader, all whimpering or panting. 

“Oh Stars, we thought you were done for! We've never seen that trick work!” Oakpaw whispered. 

“Whitepaw was ready to throw himself at the thing.” Littlepaw mumbled. 

“Like that would have helped.” Blackfoot snorted. “I say we get as far away from that Thunderpath as possible, and when we come back this way I'll show you how the tunnel works.” 

“I was wondering why we didn't take that.” Oakpaw snorted. 

“Because you all needed to cross the Thunderpath.” Blackfoot offered simply. “Let's go. There's still quite a bit to the Moonstone.” 

It was moonhigh by the time they got to Highstones. Blackfoot had no idea how they'd made such good time, but perhaps StarClan was real and hadn't forgotten them in all their anger at Brokentail's reign. And there is no doubt they were angry.

“We're all going in.” Blackfoot insisted. “When I get to the giant rock, I will most likely fall asleep and stay asleep. Do not try to wake me up, because StarClan should be sending me dreams on what will help the Clan. I may or may not get nine lives, I'll let you know when I wake up. This cave is long and dark and apparently nobody knows how to get anywhere unless StarClan guides them, so feel free to take naps of your own.” 

“But who will guard you?” Whitepaw asked. “We're supposed to protect you from threats, aren't we?” 

“Well, if any other cat can stumble their way around here then feel free to claw them.” Blackfoot snorted. “You all ready?” 

“Yes.” The apprentices chorused. 

“What happens if we touch the Moonstone?” Littlepaw wondered. 

“You just might see StarClan for yourself.” Blackfoot offered warmly. “And who knows, I've heard they embrace you with open paws.” 

With those words, the patrol of apprentices led by a warrior stumbled into the long, dark cave. 

“Welcome, Blackstar, leader of ShadowClan.” Several voices chorused as one. 

Blackfoot knew plenty of rumors about leader ceremonies. It was said that a cat heard all the cats that had comforted them in their lifetime. It was said that each leader received a life that was important to the cat giving it. It was said that StarClan greeted you warmly and with compassion, that they knew your name almost as well as you knew it yourself. 

But Blackfoot wasn't the leader of ShadowClan. Blackfoot hadn't earned the name or lives. He didn't deserve them. A gray tom with black paws, covered with tabby stripes and amber eyes stepped forward. Blackfoot bowed his head solemnly.

“You may not yet have the lives of a leader, but others rightfully call your name as we do. You have done us proud.” The gray tom said. 

“I should have spoken for you.” Blackfoot murmured. “I should have said something when Badgerfang came back. The former leader should have let you grieve.” 

“He was no leader, for that among other things. I hold no grudge for what would have gotten you killed, brother.” 

Blackfoot exhaled roughly as Flintfang pressed against him. 

“You are ready for this, Blackstar. You have led the Clan well, and it is time you let StarClan acknowledge you.” 

A dark gray she-cat with white legs and underside stepped forward. Warmth shone in her green eyes. Hollyflower had been among the first to go when Brokentail ruled, for refusing to let her latest litter out of the nursery before their time.

“With this life, I give you optimism. You were always a very cautious cat, and though it served you well as deputy, you must open your mind and heart to better chances. Do not let fear stalk your pawsteps.” 

Blackstar touched noses with his mother and felt a rush of heat run through him, swift and sharp as the wind on the moors. He saw flashes of his childhood from her eyes. Every time Flintfang insisted they play in front of the nursery, the story he told her of catching his first prey, the moment he'd become deputy… and then the worst parts. Times that she spent hoping that Greyflight could see her. That StarClan could save them. That Yellowfang could shelter her kits from that monster, say something, _anything-_! 

It was over as soon as it began and Hollyflower stepped back. 

“Be the best you can be, Blackstar.” She murmured. “Let hope reign now.” 

A black and white kit with amber eyes trotted up to him eagerly. 

“Blackstar! Uncle, they said I could see you! I'm so happy you're here!” 

“Badgerfang…” Blackfoot whispered. “You look… healthy. Goodness, you look better than I've ever seen you.” 

“I could say the same for you, lizard-breath!” Badgerfang giggled. “With this life, I offer forgiveness. You can't see everything coming, no matter how much you want to. It's not your job, either. Live and let go, Blackstar. Don't wallow in the past.” 

This time, he saw Badgerfang's final moments. He saw the battle against WindClan, the tom that all but savaged him before racing after a scattered Clan. He saw Brokentail's cold gaze glaring down at him, saying that StarClan deserved him. He saw his mother's whimpering and Flingfang's pained snarls as he slipped away. 

_I love you. I love you. I love you all…_

Blackfoot felt the little cat roll his eyes as he brought the older tom to StarClan. 

_You were supposed to get old!_

_So were you!_

Badgerfang pulled away and placed a paw over Blackfoot's chest. 

“It's okay to learn from your mistakes.” He mewed before disappearing into the crowd. 

A cat he didn't recognize loped forward. Pure white with blue eyes.

“My name is Sagewhisker. I was the medicine cat before Yellowfang. With this life, I give you faith. Know that StarClan is with you wherever you go.” 

Instead of Sagewhisker's life, he saw Oakpaw's. He saw the lighter brown tom as he lost another part of his world again and again, despite always finding something. He lost his littermates, he gained the rest of the Clan. He lost his way of life and gained a wonderful mentor. He gained new friends. He gained the respect of another Clan's leader. He lost one of those friends, the one that let him sleep at her side and told him stories about fish playing tricks. He gained Fireheart, the best cat he could have asked for. He lost his parents and his Clan all over again, almost lost Blackfoot on the way to meet StarClan… 

_Can StarClan give nine lives to cats who are injured?!_

There was no doubt in his mind that StarClan existed, that StarClan would help them find more food. That StarClan held his mother and Silverstream and all his kithood friends. The elders who told him stories in the nursery. His _mother…_ he hoped she was proud of him. 

“That one's faith will serve him well. You should follow his example.” 

Sagewhisker rested her head on his shoulder and disappeared. In her place was Greyflight. His father was gray all over with amber eyes. 

“With this life, I give you curiosity.” He murmured. “Follow your instincts every now and then it's alright to explore and have fun.” 

Again, unlike with Hollyflower or Badgerfang, Blackfoot saw a living cat. Littlepaw was pressed up against the Moonstone. Littlepaw was always wondering what was next in training. Littlepaw was trying to climb a tree even though his mentor said they wouldn't be doing that until he grew a bit more _oh for the love of the Stars, Littlepaw, you're not a medicine cat-!_

Blackfoot snickered at that. 

“Curious indeed.” He snorted. “That's one question answered.” 

“So it is.” Greyflight chuckled. “You could stand to get out of the den more, son.” He offered, repeating words he'd said so often in life.

Greyflight rubbed cheeks with Blackfoot and padded to sit with the others. 

“Brother-mine, why must you be such a minnow that StarClan ourselves have to tell you that you're good to be leader?” 

Fernshade… she'd passed recently, when the rogue cats had attacked in the middle of the day. She'd gone along with Dawncloud and Pinepelt. 

“M not a minnow.” Blackfoot grumbled, now thoroughly surrounded by both his siblings. 

“You are.” Flintfang laughed. “You still think they've got the wrong cat.” 

“Not as much as I did back at camp.” Blackfoot snorted. “You all can be very convincing.”

“I'll say.” Fernshade scoffed. “Anyway, you get quite a bit of courage from me. It's good to assert yourself when you aren't getting things done. Show cats that you know what you're doing. Take a little pride in your work.” 

Blackfoot felt like he'd been thrown into a freezing cold marsh but after that… he could fling himself from a tree to catch a bird! He could face a turtle head-on and win! He could show Oakpaw and the rest that there was more to life than this miserable place everyone seemed to like. He could stand on the Great Rock and brag for all to hear that ShadowClan was the best-! 

Oh. This was Brownpaw.

“I never would have thought he'd felt this way.” Blackfoot blurted out. 

“Courage of a young cat not yet beaten by life, or at least not letting life beat _him_.” Fernshade chirped, a knowing gleam in her eyes. 

Set an example. Take a lesson. Be a leader. 

The next cat to step forward was Cinderfur. He wasn't quite an elder when sickness took him not long after ThunderClan ended Brokentail's reign, but he looked better now. The last Blackfoot had seen him, the soot-furred tom had a nose almost as crusted as the medicine cat and could barely breathe, let alone talk. 

“With this life, I give you fair judgement. There will be times when you must know right from wrong, and though it might hurt, you will have to take action and punish those responsible for a crime. Be certain in your convictions.” 

Blackfoot saw Cinderfur's vision as one long scene. When he'd first become deputy and the kits were apprenticed. Cats spoke out, all of ShadowClan objecting to the treatment of such cats barely old enough to be weaned from their mothers.

No! Put them back! They can't go to Fourtrees, you can't use your _claws_ , for StarClan's sake you must be careful, Brokenstar why-! 

“He has not paid for his crimes.” Cinderfur muttered bitterly. 

The gray elder was gone and Flintfang took his place. 

“With this life, I give you endurance. You have gone through lifetimes of things no cat should have to witness, and as StarClan we ask you to do this nine times over. So we shall make sure that you can.” 

Darkflower sat at the center of camp, looking to the stars as the cats around her went about their day. Blackfoot watched as StarClan showed him battle after battle, leafbare after leafbare, cats getting sick from the Carrionplace… just how much of this would he have to endure?!

Flintfang sighed and stepped back. 

“It will be a lot.” He insisted. “But we will always be with you.” 

Flintfang finally slipped back into the crowd and a dark brown tabby with amber eyes stepped forward.

“Raggedstar.” Blackfoot dipped his head respectfully.

“With this life, I give you foresight.” Was all the older tom had to say. “Do better than I did.” 

When they touched noses, a shiver ran through Blackfoot. He saw… Brokentail's life? 

“He is my son.” Raggedstar informed Lizardstripe. 

“If toms could have kits I certainly wouldn't be here.” She scoffed. 

Watched him learn how to climb and hunt and fight… he was such a good warrior, such a good cat, not selfish like his mother. Like-. 

“Oh foxdung.” Blackfoot blurted out. 

Several cats cackled throughout the crowd. 

“That was definitely a common reaction.” Raggedstar snorted. “It certainly was my reaction when he killed me.” 

“Wait a minute, he _what_?!” Blackstar snapped. “But he was the deputy already-!” 

“Exactly. Ask Bluestar of ThunderClan just what that's like.” 

“What about ThunderClan?” 

“You'll learn soon enough.” Raggedstar chuckled. 

“That wasn't helpful at all.” 

“Then perhaps I could be of assistance.” A familiar voice rumbled, amused.

“No.” 

“Yes.”

“No!” 

“Blackstar-.” 

“You don't belong here! Go back to ShadowClan, you have to help me through this-!” 

“Blackstar, look at me.” Nightstar murmured. 

“With this life-.” 

“ _Please_ go back to ShadowClan, I can't do this without you!” 

“With this life, I give you strength of heart. Trust in your Clanmates, trust in StarClan, but most of all, you must trust yourself. You must have faith in yourself. You must be able to live for yourself and your family, to lead them well. You cannot doubt yourself because a bad cat chose you to guide the Clan. It was the one good decision he made. You must believe all of this is worth it. ShadowClan cannot go on without a leader, and you were chosen to lead. You can do this.” 

“We confirm your name and position as Blackstar, Leader of ShadowClan!” 

“Blackstar! Blackstar! Blackstar!” 

_Nightstar, wait!_

Everything went black before he could move.

“So?” Whitepaw stood over him, amber eyes gleaming with curiosity. 

Blackstar got to his paws and shook himself out before standing over the black and white tom and squishing him to the ground. 

“Blackstar!” Whitepaw whined. “What are you doing?”

“Just let it happen.” Oakpaw mumbled as he stretched all four legs and padded over to Blackstar. The white tom snorted and burrowed him beside his Clanmate. Littlepaw was last. He sprang up from beside the Moonstone and hurtled toward them. Blackstar chuckled and adjusted so that the brown tom crashed into the other two. Now all three of them were squished under his large frame. 

“I'm gonna be medicine cat!” Littlepaw chirped. 

“I know.” Blackstar murmured, glad for his excitement. 

“There’s so many herbs and so much green in StarClan… I could stay there forever!” 

“Not for a good long while, Littlepaw.” Blackstar warned. “I better be dead for a million moons before any of you get to StarClan.” 

“Yes Blackstar.” The apprentices chorused. 

“Good. Now I'm going to try _actual_ sleep.” The white tom announced. 

His apprentices groaned and settled themselves down well enough. After the ordeal he'd just gone through, he prayed to StarClan for a dreamless sleep. 


	6. Chapter Five

#  **Chapter Five**

The queens waited until morning to confront their kits. Brindleface had calmed in the night and Nutleaf had time to bolster her courage. 

They didn't scream like they were ready to the night before. Nutleaf had only one question for Lightpaw and Fernpaw. 

“Why?” She asked in a breathless murmur. 

“I wanted to see where I came from.” Lightpaw scowled. 

“That can't be it. I could have taken you, or Fireheart. We could have taken you guys to all our old haunts if you wanted to know that badly. All you ever had to do was ask. What did you really go there for?” Nutleaf demanded. 

“I wanted to see if anyone knew about my father.” Lightpaw admitted, ears flat. “You don't talk about him and Fireheart doesn't know.” 

“You can't be serious.” Patchpaw scowled. “You had everyone out looking for you because you couldn't bother to wait for Nutleaf to tell you where our sire is? Cloudpaw could have told you that! Are you mouse-brained or fox-hearted?” Patchpaw scoffed. 

“What do any of you care?!” Lightpaw snapped. 

“He's moved on.” Cloudpaw informed the group. “I asked Nutleaf if we would ever see our father and she said no. He's seen us before, but the Twolegs made him move on because he couldn't be a housecat with us.”

“Nutleaf told you that?” Lightpaw asked, reeling from the knowledge. 

“I figured it out myself. Think about it, Lightpaw, not everyone around here has two parents. Greystripe and Darkstripe's father isn't here, we don't know if Sandstorm or Dustpelt have family. I bet if you ask some other warriors they might know their mothers but not their fathers, or their fathers but not their mothers. Haven't you ever wondered why?” Cloudpaw prompted. 

“Of course he hasn't, he's too busy whining about how _he_ doesn't know _his_ father.” Fernpaw spat. 

“You stay out of this.” Splashpaw growled. Fernpaw reared back as if she'd been struck. Her best friend was normally shy and quiet in her convictions. She'd never seen the tortoiseshell so angry before. 

“So it's not just us.” Lightpaw mumbled, ears flat to his skull. “It's not just because Nutleaf was a kittypet.” 

“Clan cats mate outside their Clan all the time.” Frostfur murmured patiently. “If no one claims the kits then they grow up with one parent.” She offered. “I was… I was lucky enough that Lionheart agreed to help me raise my kits.” She admitted. 

Fireheart and the other mentors were shocked but didn't say anything. The queens among the group didn't seem that surprised. 

“Rare is the cat who has both parents see their warrior ceremony.” Mousefur murmured bitterly. “Runningwind and I are extremely lucky that Halftail and One-eye made it to the elder’s den.” 

“Why didn't you at least come to me with this?” Runningwind whispered. “Fireheart and Nutleaf are like littermates as much as Mousefur is. You could have told me how you were feeling. I would have gotten you answers.” 

Lightpaw slumped to the ground, eyes brimming with shame. 

“I didn't think about that.” He admitted. 

“Obviously.” Runningwind snapped, clearly hurt. “I thought you knew better, Lightpaw. Since you clearly don't respect any of your Clanmates, you might as well spend some extra time with them.” 

“What?” Lightpaw's head snapped up and his confused gaze met his mentor's determined one.

“You’re not like Splashpaw or Patchpaw. You like being out in the forest. You did this to prove to yourself that you could do anything… well now you’ll prove that to me. If Nutleaf and Yellowfang allow it, I want you to shadow the medicine cats for half a moon. You will be excused from fighting and your hunting will be monitored. _If_ you get to hunt at all.” 

“Wait a heartbeat that's-.”

“You cannot be trusted to train with your fellow apprentices. You do not trust me to help you become a warrior. There are two paths we can take. Perhaps you are better suited to herbs.” 

“But Runningwind, you know I'm a good fighter!” 

“Not as far as your training has proved. Being in a Clan takes discipline, Lightpaw. Perhaps more time at your mother's side will help that sink in.”

“Oh mousefarts that's colder than a stream in leafbare.” Cloudpaw snickered. “Ancestors above, Lightpaw, you gonna take that?” 

Lightpaw plopped back on his haunches and stared open-mouthed at his mentor. 

Runningwind snorted and tapped the younger tom's forehead with a gentle paw. Lightpaw didn't react. 

“Wow, you really did a number on him. I didn't think what you said was that bad.” Swiftclaw meowed from over by the warriors den. 

“He might be in shock.” Nutleaf snorted. “Sharp smell of the medicine den should cheer him right up.” 

With those words, she padded over to her son and nudged him to his paws. When he fell over, she tried again. After the fifth time, Nutleaf shimmied under him and got to her paws, carrying the light brown apprentice to the medicine den. 

“Don't think you're getting off so easily.” Brindleface scoffed, seeing her daughter attempt to slink away in all the commotion. 

Fernpaw whined and stared at Fireheart, silently willing him to say something. 

“I've been thinking about what to say since you argued about the pigeon. I'm not sure if there's anything I can say that will have you listen to me. I obviously haven't earned your respect and knowing you, if I keep on like this I never will. So I leave your punishment up to your parents, but I have something I would like to try.” 

Fireheart stopped, flicking his tail for her to speak. Fernpaw nodded shakily. 

“I'll take what you have to offer.” She said. 

“I want you to shadow me. You're my apprentice, so I've been trying to make time for you as well as be deputy, but it's… overwhelming, as much as I hate to admit it. Perhaps if you see how much work I have to do, you can figure out where you'll fit in for yourself. When you're not with me, I expect you to be with at least one other warrior. Your denmates don't count. I will be checking after you. If no one knows where you are or who you're with, I'll send you back to the nursery for another six moons.” 

“What?! But I'm an apprentice!” 

“You haven't been acting like one. Runningwind wasn't wrong to say that more time with your parents will do you some good.” 

A mixture of anger and shame flashed across Fernpaw's face before she dipped her head. 

“Okay.” She said sadly before padding to her den. 

Fireheart exhaled roughly and relaxed his muscles. 

“That could have gone better.” He grumbled. 

“On the contrary, you and Runningwind did that perfectly.” Frostfur snickered. “One would think that it was practiced, but we all know you speak from the heart, youngster.” 

“You're not funny.” Fireheart grumbled. “This shouldn't be happening.” 

“There are a number of things that shouldn't be happening, Fireheart, could you be a bit more specific?” Mousefur snorted. 

“I expected that Fernpaw would be about as difficult as any other apprentice. Why can't I train her?” 

“You said it yourself, you are the deputy of the Clan. Worse yet, your are the deputy of a Clan that has had it's paws swiped from underneath and is spinning around like a kit on ice! You're practically leading without any guidance from the actual leader. And she's not doing so well. If I'm being honest, most of us are surprised that you haven't cracked under the stress of it all. Nobody is blaming you for Fernpaw's actions.” Runningwind informed the ginger tom. 

“You should see if Sandstorm is up for some hunting. You always feel better after spending time with her.” Patchpaw offered. 

Fireheart blinked, surprised that his nephew had picked up on his worries. 

“I, um… I should.” Fireheart admitted. “That's a great idea, Patchpaw.” 

“I'll take Fernpaw and Ashpaw out for the day.” Darkstripe announced. “Apparently I don't know them as well as I thought. You should see who'd be willing to handle patrols. And get Whitestorm to check on Bluestar. Lately you two are the only ones she'll respond to.”

Fireheart gaped at the silver and black tom. 

“What? I have some good ideas every now and then.”

“No, no, I just… that's all of my problems solved for now. _Thank_ you.” 

“It's alright to ask for help.” Frostfur meowed wisely. “Anyone in your position would. It's not a failure on your part.” 


	7. Chapter Six

#  **Chapter Six**

"So?"

Blackstar was amused to receive a similar greeting from Brownpaw when he returned to ShadowClan with the three apprentices.

"He's Blackstar for good now!"

The clearing swelled to a roar as his fellow Clanmates took up chanting his name.

"Blackstar! Blackstar! Blackstar! Blackstar! Blackstar! Blackstar! Blackstar! Blackstar!"

He flicked his tail and eventually, the cheering stopped.

"Thank you for your patience. I wanted to ensure that I was worthy of leading you all before I underwent the ceremony-."

"You're the only one of Brokentail's Guard that stuck around, did you know that?" Runningnose prompted quietly.

"What?" Blackstar blurted out, stunned by the medicine cat's sudden boldness.

"You're the only one who even thought about the rest of us. You lost just as much as everyone else, twice as much, almost. But you stayed. You have been running this Clan since the Uproar, and everyone knows it. The other Clans have been calling you Blackstar. Your hesitance is yours alone, and you are right to have it… but you can't let that stop you from ensuring ShadowClan grows strong."

Runningnose's speech was met with hearty mews of encouragement. Blackstar closed his eyes and let foreign feelings wash over him. His Clanmates believed in him. StarClan believed in him. He had the ename and lives of a leader to prove it.

His eyes snapped open and he exhaled roughly.

"Okay, the Moonstone trip takes a couple days so they hunting patrols should have news by now-."

"Who will be your deputy?" Palefoot called out eagerly.

"I was hoping Darkflower wouldn't mind."

"Well, if you insist." The black she-cat drawled. "But don't go using up all nine lives anytime soon, you hear? I have absolutely no desire to lead."

Cheering ensued, and Blackstar couldn't help but think that this was the happiest he'd seen any of his Clanmates lately.

"As I was saying, the hunting patrols. How did spreading out go? And who buried Nightstar?"

"I did." Runningnose informed the crowd. "Blackstar, we'll talk about that later."

"The hunting patrols were wise to split up like they did. We found food outside the territories!" Palefoot crowed.

"It's maybe half a day's travel, if that. We could have three day-patrols switch between catching prey and bringing it back." Darkflower asserted.

"Or you could leave that to us."

Blackstar lunged over the crowd before him with a battle roar as warriors flurried to form a ring around the apprentices and queens.

"It's just Stone and her friends!" He assured the group behind him. He turned to face the light grey she-cat with an annoyed look on his face.

"I could have sworn we discussed this territory situation." Blackstar ground out.

"Oh, indeed. We would not have come so soon but I noticed your Clanmates stretched their hunting grounds. Are our contributions not enough?" The collared rogue prompted.

"It is more a redistribution of hunting space." Darkflower explained cooly, stepping up to join them. "One of our more prey-rich spots is now riddled with disease, so we cut off hunting there and must find new sources."

The cats who joined them in the clearing nodded knowingly.

"That's always a difficult transition." Stone's brother, Pebble, offered as he weaved through the crowd. "Stumpytail! I heard Brownpaw was confined to camp for a few days. What'd he do?"

"Tried catching a turtle the other day, the little brat." Stumpytail snorted fondly. "He'll be back on patrols in a few days but in the meantime it's mucking out dens for him."

"A turtle… can't those bite off a paw or two?!"

"Only if they get big enough!" Brownpaw boasted. "And I caught it first! It fed seven cats once we pried the shell off and the shell is good for rebuilding the camp!"

"That's all well and good, Brownpaw, but turtles are dangerous even to Twolegs. Imagine what a fully grown one could do to a cat your size."

"The whole point is that they're rare-!"

"Oh _please_ don't start him up again." Sleekheart groaned playfully. He'll be talking about this catch of his until the next Gathering."

"But the full moon is almost two weeks from now!" Pebble cackled. "Surely it wasn't that big a catch."

"Well, he wasn't wrong to say that it fed seven cats." Stumpytail grumbled acknowledgingly. "But I'll sit on him if he ever thinks about facing down a thing like that ever again."

Stone and her group didn't stay as long as they usually did when they dropped off prey. A cat from Twolegplace met them at the ShadowClan border with news from the outside world.

"Duty calls." Pebble informed the group, amber eyes flashing anxiously. "Someone's trying to move in on Scourge's territory, so we've got some work to do back home."

"You'll come back, right?" Whitepaw chirped, eyes bright and eager to hear more about the strange Clan that lived among Twolegs.

"Bright and early tomorrow morning, barring any complications."

"Fair hunting, then." Palefoot offered warily. "Here's hoping those strangers don't cause you too much trouble."

Runningnose called Blackfoot-star. Blackstar. He needed to get used to that. He'd gotten the lives. He was the leader of ShadowClan now. Runningnose called Blackstar into his den not long after the BloodClan cats left the camp.

"There are things every leader should know about their Clan that only the living can tell. ShadowClan is no different."

"Do you mean weaknesses? Brokentail never spoke of such things."

"He wouldn't, and they don't have to be weaknesses. Knowing a cat's favorite prey is just as useful as knowing how to float when hunting in flooded marshes. No cat knows what to do better than a leader should, and since Brokentail focused more on gathering power than getting to know his Clan, it falls to me to make sure you know each word of every ceremony we have. Births, deaths, making apprentices and warriors, retiring elders, how to treat an incoming medicine cat, how to acknowledge your own medicine cats in training-."

"Wait, your ceremony isn't the same as a warrior ceremony?"

"No, because we take vows to heal all cats regardless of Clan. We take a Healer's Oath."

"But you're a ShadowClan cat first and foremost. Why wouldn't your loyalty be to your Clan?"

"It is, and usually it should be, but medicine cats hold a power that leaders do not. We speak for StarClan, and what StarClan wants doesn't always translate to what a leader or deputy might announce to the Clan."

"StarClan made themselves perfectly clear when they gave Brokentail his lives."

"They did not." Runningnose snorted.

"What?"

"StarClan never gave Brokentail the lives of a leader. He was rejected because they saw the darkness he would cast us into."

"What?! That makes no sense, he's lived so long!"

"Through sheer luck and his own stubbornness. Some poor soul must be praying for him. StarClan knows I'm not."

"How do you know he doesn't have nine lives?"

"The same way I know you've received all of yours."

"Which you shouldn't! I thought it was a private ceremony. You weren't even there!"

"A medicine cat has the Stars-given ability to look at a leader and Know, Blackstar. I don't know when or how you will lose these lives. I simply know that you have received them. Call it an aura, if you must."

"A what?"

"Aura. The energy that surrounds a cat. A StarClan cat's is the brightest, then a leader's, then a medicine cat's, because we have all been touched by StarClan. Then kits, because they are fresh from StarClan. Elders are next, and their auras vary with age depending on how close to StarClan they are. Apprentices and warriors are all on the same level, though brightness varies by stage of life. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"I... yes, I believe so. Auras, hm? Could a cat who wasn't touched by StarClan see these things?"

"StarClan works in strange ways. I wouldn't be surprised if a cat came to know such knowledge."

"How come I can't see them if I'm touched by StarClan or whatever?"

"Along with knowing how many lives a leader has left, that is left to medicine cats." Runningnose deadpanned.

Blackstar nodded absently and opened his mouth to speak, then closed it.

"Mind-reading is not one of my gifts, Blackstar, so you'll have to ask if you have questions."

"You definitely take after Yellowfang." Blackstar snickered. "So snarky and demanding. But I've been thinking... about Clan names."

"What about them?"

"How does a leader determine what to call an apprentice? Or an elder who gets injured and wants a name change. Speaking of, whoever named you was rather cruel about it. I can't imagine Yellowfang being like that."

"Her mentor was still around when I got my name. I earned it fairly, and will not be changing it."

"Why? I mean, if you don't mind talking about it."

"It came after the first time I managed to handle treating a wave of the Carrionplace sickness on my own. I used up all the herbs on the other patients, so Sagewhisker and Yellowfang had to treat me with ThunderClan's herbs when I got sick."

"Interesting..." Blackstar mused. "And it may be relevant once more. We're going to need ThunderClan's help in the coming moons. Or they'll need ours."

"True enough, but what makes you say so?"

"During my ceremony, I saw Brokentail through Raggedstar's eyes. Three things were revealed to me."

The white tom hesitated here, wondering how the medicine cat would take his former leader's... infidelity would be the right terms, he supposed.

"First, that Brokentail is the son of Raggedstar and Yellowfang."

"Yes, I knew that. It isn't easy for a she-cat to hide when she's having kits, especially not from a medicine cat."

"And the second was that Raggedstar... he... Brokentail killed him!" Blackstar blurted out. "And Tigerclaw might have followed in his pawsteps. Two Clan deputies conspired to kill their leaders! Brokentail actually did kill the last great leader this Clan might ever have! Had the gall to take his place and tear apart everything ShadowClan ever worked for! We trained _kits_ , for StarClan's sake, there's no... there's no coming back from that."

"Yes, there is." Runningnose insisted calmly.

"Kittens... they were small and defenseless and some of them didn't even have claws fully formed. Badgerfang was the oldest apprentice when he died at three moons-!"

" _ **Blackstar**_!"

"How are we supposed to move past this?!" Blackstar demanded. "Brokentail devastated the forest. I'm surprised ThunderClan has come to our aid as often as they have. Crookedstar might be ready to kill us at any given moment and WindClan... well, let's just say I stuck to the outskirts of their territory for a reason. If I never run into a WindClan cat on my way to the Moonstone, it'll be too soon."

"They cannot stop StarClan from communicating with leaders and medicine cats. The Moonstone is not the only way StarClan reaches out to us."

"Just the most important."

"Just the most obvious." Runningnose corrected. "Why don't we focus on something else, hm? There are some ceremonies you might not remember because Brokentail had no tolerance for what he dared to call weakness."


	8. Chapter Seven

#  **Chapter Seven**

Fernpaw and her fellow apprentices gathered by the freshkill pile that evening. Ashpaw, Patchpaw, Cloudpaw, and Splashpaw weren't very impressed with she and Lightpaw. In fact, they'd teased her all day. When Ashpaw found out she was the reason for Darkstripe all but smothering him, they rolled around the camp, spitting insults at each other. That earned both of them even more time doing chores. 

Swiftclaw and Cinderpelt stopped by to sit with them for some reason, and were happy to spin tales of their own apprentice days.

“Fireheart saved Brackenheart’s life, did you know that?” Swiftclaw commented off-pawedly. 

“He did? How?” Fernpaw asked. 

“I remember that.” Splashpaw scowled. “It was within the moon after I was first apprenticed. Fireheart woke up Cinderpelt and Brackenheart, who woke everyone else up, so we all went on a patrol with Greystripe, Darkstripe and Tigerclaw. This was back when he was alright, but Greystripe wasn't mentoring Brackenheart the right way and nobody knew why. So eventually Tigerclaw got fed up with Greystripe and they got into a fight! Brackenheart doesn't like to talk about it, but Fireheart came back half dead and Brackenheart and Cinderpelt were tearing their fur out worrying, and Nutleaf was so mad… and I don't think I've ever seen Darkstripe as furious as he was when he brought Fireheart back to camp. He couldn't even say what was wrong, he just kept saying all these weird words and left again.”

“That's about right.” Cinderpelt scowled. “And we got our warrior names because we got him back to camp in time and managed to keep the younger apprentices calm. Like we weren't panicking ourselves.” 

“Well, we're all here now.” Swiftclaw insisted, nudging Cinderpelt. “C'mon, live a little. These kits have to know that life isn't all doom and gloom.” 

“They also have to know what happens if they don't listen to their mentors.” 

“Brackenheart was caught between them. He did the right thing.” 

“Oh I'm not talking about my brother. I meant Greystripe. He didn't put much stock into what he'd learned and now look where he is.” 

“Probably a rogue somewhere.”

“I hope he's dead.” Cinderpelt sneered. 

She shook herself out and glanced apologetically at the younger cats. 

“I didn't mean to scare you. Why don't we go ask the elders about the warrior code? There are special stories that they can't tell us until we learn the rules. If we ask nice enough and cough up some prey, Smallear and Patchpelt might be willing to share.” 

The apprentices scampered eagerly after the younger warriors and Fireheart snickered as Fernpaw boasted that she'd be better than Dustpelt someday. 

“Are you alright?” 

Sandstorm's voice wrapped around him like the warmth of the now-setting greenleaf sun. 

“Today was pretty hard on you…” 

“Bluestar isn't in the best of moods and I can't train my own apprentice.”

“Well that's obvious, but I think there's more to it. Can I help you with anything?” 

“Maybe see who's not been on patrol in a bit? I need to keep up with those.” 

“Well that'd be Dustpelt and Longtail, to start with. I'd offer Whitestorm as well, but he's been a bit on edge lately. Maybe a few of the younger warriors and some of the apprentices. That'll be patrols until about sunhigh tomorrow, if you have two or three cats for each.” 

“You're wonderful and I adore you.” Fireheart murmured, pushing his nose into her fur. 

“I love you too, mouse-brain.” Sandstorm chuckled. “What's got your tail in a twist?” 

“Things are going well… a bit too well. This is the point where Bluestar starts…” 

“Getting weird? I saw at the ceremony. That's not going to be easy, convincing the other Clans.” 

“Maybe the other leaders can help?” Fireheart offered warily.

“Why would they?” Sandstorm wondered. 

“Well, Tallstar said he knew my dad at some point, so he's kind of friendly toward me. And Crookedstar was friends with Bluestar during their apprenticeship.” 

“But are you sure they wouldn't turn on her? We're in a time of peace right now but the wind can change with a moment's notice.” 

“Do you have any other ideas?” 

“We consult the queens and elders. They grew up with her. If we tell them what you're thinking, they might be able to help you see it through or give you a better solution.” 

“But they can't know that she doesn't trust them! The Clan will fall apart if they can't believe in their leader.”

“Not this time, Fireheart. The older cats might be rattled, but they'll be of more help than anything. You don't have to do this alone.”

“Okay… okay. Thank you Sandstorm. I really need to get better at this-.” 

“Hey, this is just like after your first battle, remember? Take it slow, lean on me. We'll get through this just like we've gotten through everything else.” 

Fireheart stared at his mate, shocked, as if he didn't know what to say next. The ginger tom sighed, closed his eyes, and burrowed his head into her shoulder. 

“You're far too good for me.” He murmured. “I'm so lucky to have you.” 

Sandstorm purred softly, and the rumble sent warmth surging through Fireheart. 

“I don't know how you fared in your dreams, love, but things are different here. You've got so many cats willing to help carry the burden of moving on, especially since we all went through the same thing and the older cats know Bluestar well. It's okay to ask for help.” 

_Soft paws padded through Fireheart's dreams that night. It was dark in this place. Blue eyes flashed and lightning cracked above, to reveal the lithe form of Silverstream. She'd given birth to Stormkit and Featherkit, who lay safely in the nursery, dead to the world, and he'd never seen her again. He recalled with ease the trip across the river to tell another Clan's leader that his daughter wasn't coming home. Sandstorm and Dustpelt had been with him then. So had Brackenheart. They'd seen Greystripe. Greystripe… StarClan knew what he was doing. Speaking of, Fireheart's old friend popped out of the enclosing ferns with claws unsheathed, blocking his way._

_“What do you think you're doing?!” He sneered. “After my mate again?”_

_“No! I need to see what's happening.” He growled, ducking under the large tom and letting the ferns separate them once more._

_Two more cats appeared, and they ran side by side. Fernpaw to his left and Sandstorm to his right._

_“Where we headed?” The eager apprentice chirped._

_“Keep up, Fireheart!” Bluestar called in the distance. “Or Tigerclaw wins!”_

_Suddenly he was flying through the air, and he braced himself with a yowl as he crashed into the forest floor. Pain was all he felt before everything went black._

Something was prodding him, and Fireheart leapt out of his nest with a hiss. That shook Sandstorm awake, who had a paw on his flank from where she slept in her own nest. 

“Wha’s wrong?” She whispered sleepily. “Is just Whitestorm. You're deputy now.” 

“Oh… right. Bad dream, sorry. What can I do for you?” 

“Dawn patrol. Willowpelt wants to stretch her legs so I was hoping we could go with whoever else you'd chosen.” 

“Of course. That's Dustpelt, Ashpaw, and Longtail. I'll see if Darkstripe wants to go, since Willowpelt is interested.” 

“Thank you.” Whitestorm murmured. “You're doing well for yourself.” He purred gently, pressing his muzzle to Fireheart's ear.

Fireheart soaked in the praise and nodded his thanks before picking his way over to the warriors he'd named. 

Brindleface was sleeping near the wall of the den with Frostfur curled beside her; both she-cats had returned to their lives as warriors now that their kits had left the nursery.

_Would Willowpelt be alright to be away from camp so close to kitting?_

Fireheart shook his head. Knowing Whitestorm and Darkstripe, they wouldn't even make it halfway to the border. 

Dustpelt grumbled as he pushed himself to his paws. 

“Yeah?” 

“I want you on dawn patrol with Ashpaw and Longtail. Willowpelt wants to get out for a bit so Whitestorm and Darkstripe will be with us.” 

“Alright.” Dustpelt smothered a yawn. “I'll get Ashpaw. Want me to take Fernpaw too?” 

“Fireheart!” Bluestar called loudly across camp.

“I'll have to get back to you on that.” He murmured. 

“I'll get everyone together.” Dustpelt offered.

“Thanks.” Fireheart sighed before shimmying out of the warriors den.

It was already warm even though the sun had not yet risen over the treetops, and the woods looked green and inviting at the top of the ravine. 

As he sniffed the familiar scents of the forest, the pain of Fireheart’s dream began to fade, and he felt his fur relax on his shoulders. 

“Fireheart! I can see you.” Bluestar scoffed. “You're coming with me.” 

“Alright. Where are we going?” 

“Highstones.” 

“Highstones?!” Fireheart blurted out. “What do you need from StarClan that can't wait until more cats are awake?” 

The ginger tom wanted to wail. On one paw, he couldn't leave the camp without its leader and deputy if anyone decided to attack. One the other paw, there was food aplenty for all the Clans. RiverClan's only problem was that their kits were in ThunderClan’s nursery. ShadowClan was probably still building up their supplies and their Clan from Brokenstar's reign. He hadn't heard much from WindClan since the Gathering, where Nutleaf found a friend in the deputy, Deadfoot. 

_That will change now..._

Fireheart blinked to find that Bluestar was closer to him than she previously had been. Her tail waved jauntily as she attempted to keep his attention. 

“This looks like a lifelong affliction of yours, Fireheart. I'm surprised you've survived as many battles as you have.” Bluestar chuckled.

“You're not funny.” Fireheart grumbled. 

“I suppose you’ll be wanting some traveling herbs too,” remarked Yellowfang as Fireheart emerged from the tunnel. 

The old medicine cat was sitting calmly in the clearing while Bluestar paced restlessly around, lost in her own thoughts. 

“Yes, please,” answered Fireheart. Nutleaf hurried out of the den in the split rock and made straight for Yellowfang without stopping to greet Fireheart. 

“Which one is chamomile?” she whispered urgently into the medicine cat’s ragged ear. 

“You must know that by now!” Yellowfang hissed crossly. Nutleaf’s ears twitched. 

“I thought I did, but I wasn’t sure. I just wanted to check.” 

Yellowfang snorted, heaved herself to her paws, and went over to the foot of the rock, where several small piles of herbs were lying in a row. 

Fireheart glanced at Bluestar. She had stopped pacing and was staring up at the sky, warily sniffing the air. Fireheart padded after Yellowfang. 

“Chamomile’s not a traveling herb,” he meowed under his breath. Yellowfang narrowed her eyes. 

“Bluestar needs something to soothe her heart as well as to give her physical strength.” She glanced scathingly at Nutleaf and added, 

“I was hoping to add it to the traveling herbs without telling the whole camp!” She pushed one of the piles with a heavy paw. 

“ _That’s_ chamomile.” 

“Yes, I remember now,” Nutleaf mewed meekly. 

“You shouldn’t have forgotten in the first place,” scolded Yellowfang. “If you have a problem then tell me so we can fix it! We have a duty to our Clan, Nutleaf. Let's get on with it!” Fireheart couldn’t help but worry for his sister. He tried to catch her eye, but the brown and white she-cat wouldn’t look at him. She busied herself with preparing the traveling concoction, pawing small amounts from each pile of herbs and mixing them together while Yellowfang watched with a concerned frown. 

Behind them Bluestar had begun to pace the clearing again. 

“Aren’t they ready yet?” she meowed irritably. Fireheart padded over to Bluestar’s side. 

“Nearly,” He informed her. “Don’t worry. We’ll make it to Highstones by sunset.” 

Bluestar blinked at him as Nutleaf walked up with a bundle of herbs. 

“These are yours,” she mewed, dropping the mixed leaves at Bluestar’s paws. She jerked her head toward the rock. 

“Yours are over there,” she told Fireheart.

He was still swallowing to wash the bitter taste of the herbs from his mouth when Bluestar headed out of the clearing, nodding for Fireheart to follow her. Around them, the camp was beginning to stir. Willowpelt, Whitestorm and Darkstripe stood at the entrance of the camp with the rest of the dawn patrol. 

“I thought you all left?” Fireheart called. 

Dustpelt hurried forward with a shake of his head. 

“I wasn't sure if you wanted Fernpaw with me for the day. It looks like you're busy.” 

“We're going to Highstones.” Bluestar informed him. 

“Well in that case it's a good thing we waited. Ready?” The brown tom asked. Bluestar nodded and Fireheart flicked his tail gratefully.

“Thank you.” He meowed. 

“So where are we going?” Fernpaw asked when they approached the rest of the group. “Am I staying with Dustpelt and Ashpaw?” 

“Yes.” Fireheart said, glad that she hadn't asked for details. 

“Why does it seem like I never get to spend any time with you?” Fernpaw grumbled.

“We'll practice fighting when we get back, Fernpaw. Fireheart has more to do than the average deputy.” Darkstripe insisted. “I hope you're not badgering him like this all the time.”

“Well whenever I see him he's either yelling at me for doing something or saying we'll do something and then we don't.” 

“Why are you even whining about Fireheart? Aren't you supposed to be with Darkstripe and Brindleface?” Ashpaw scoffed.

“Well maybe one of _them_ should be my mentor!” 

“Why, so they can spoil you more than they already have?” Bluestar drawled suddenly. “Darkstripe and Brindleface are brilliant warriors in their own rights, and assets to ThunderClan. However, no parents like seeing their kits get hurt, even if it is for training. We have these rules for a reason, little one. If you don't like them, you can go back to the nursery or join the elders.”

Fernpaw ducked her head and let her paws drag along the forest floor. 

“You know, Fireheart, this one is far more outspoken than most apprentices I've encountered, especially recently. Even your nephew, Cloudpaw, knows when to learn and when to play. And he questions our beliefs on the daily.” 

“What's that supposed to mean?” Fireheart yelped, alarmed. Was Cloudpaw so open with his disbelief in StarClan that even the leader knew?!

“Nothing terrible. He's got every right to be wary of what his mother faces. StarClan is real, and most cats can believe that without question. Some need proof,and some,even with proof, will never believe. Cloudpaw likely needs proof to put his mind at ease. And apparently so does this one, since she doesn't trust _you_ to guide her. She should come with us. At the very least, she will see the outside world for herself. At most, you might earn her respect.” 

“She's on punishment, Bluestar. Highstones is an honor for apprentices.” Darkstripe objected. “One that she isn't ready for and definitely doesn't deserve.” 

“An honor to be yelled at by a StarClan cat…” Bluestar chuckled bitterly. “We'll see.” 


	9. Chapter Eight

#  **Chapter Eight**

The BloodClan cats didn’t come back for almost half a moon and ShadowClan was already starting to feel the strain. On top of the sickness still ravaging the came, there was less food without their contributions and their stronger warriors had worked with ShadowClan’s stronger warriors to refortify the camp. It was a job set to the apprentices and younger warriors now, but the results showed. ShadowClan was miserable and run ragged despite all Blackstar tried, and he was beginning to regret ever going through that leader’s ceremony. There seemed to be no point when all he could do was watch his Clanmates die one by one until only he was left. He didn’t voice any of this to his cats, desperate to keep their spirits up. He knew that nothing would change under his leadership, but to see it happen despite their belief in him was soul-crushing. 

“I, Blackstar, leader of ShadowClan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on this apprentice. He has trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code, and I commend him to you as a warrior in their turn. Whitepaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend your Clan, even at the cost of your life?

“I do.”

“Then by the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior name. Whitepaw, from this moment on you will be known as Whitethroat. StarClan honors your hardiness and determination, and we welcome you as a full warrior of ShadowClan.”

“Whitethroat! Whitethroat! Whitethroat!” 

“Runningnose has an announcement on his apprentice’s training as well.”

“Littlepaw, I know it’s early in your training but I will be taking you to the Moonstone to confirm you as ShadowClan’s next medicine cat. Though your training continues, your name will be Littlecloud.” 

“Littlecloud! Whitethroat! Littlecloud! Whitethroat! Littlecloud! Whitethroat!” 

“Now, aside from the ceremony, I’ve called you all for good reason. We need more herbs than we already have. Different ones, at the very least. Whatever this illness is, the cure does not grow in the marshes. As such, I need two cats willing to approach each Clan and ask their medicine cats for help. We are not trespassing on their territory to hunt, we do not want a fight. We are ShadowClan cats, and though we do not make a habit of begging… our lives and the future of our Clan depends on us all surviving this sickness. Do what you must to get the point across. If you need to rest in their camps, then do so. If you are sick yourself and their medicine cat says they will help you, let them. Do not take anymore than they can give. We’ll pool what we have and divide it up when the time comes. When the BloodClan cats come back, we will be asking them if they know of anything that can help from the city, since that is most definitely where this wretched sickness came from. Does anyone object to this?” 

No cat moved to speak, and even though Blackstar welcomed the silence, he also saw it as a sign. These cats were so broken down and done for that there was likely no strength left in them to object. 

“Alright. Cats who can make the journey will consult with Darkflower after we’ve all gotten some rest. It must be strange, sleeping at night, but the other Clans do so, and we are not going to them looking like a battle patrol. You’re all dismissed.” 

The newly name Whitethroat and Littlecloud padded through their Clanmates’ well-wishes just in time to speak with their former denmates. 

“So, what do you make of all this?” 

“Hunting outside our territory or begging for herbs from another Clan?” Oakpaw scowled. “I don’t like either idea, but I would never put my pride before our needs. If I have to give up prey for a moon to get those Starsforsaken herbs then I will.” 

“That’d be more along the lines of my work.” Littlecloud snorted. “And you’ll be happy to know that I agree with you. Highstones and the half-moon are too far away to be of much help.” 

“Not that StarClan has been of much help lately,” Whitethroat grumbled. 

“StarClan isn’t supposed to give us all the answers, Whitethroat. They give us hope and help us prepare for the worst. If a StarClan cat comes to you in a dream, you know something big is about to happen.” 

“You mean this _isn’t_ the worst?”

Littlecloud wasn’t sure what he could say to that. He’d lived through Brokentail’s reign. They all had. It was horrible, and no one felt like their ancestors could hear them. But they were heard now. They needed some help, sure, but they freed themselves of Brokentail. And StarClan gave them Blackstar at last. Now nobody in ShadowClan could say the Stars didn’t hear them. Not when they finally had a proper leader.


	10. Chapter Nine

#  **Chapter Nine**

As the grassy hill turned steeper and rockier, Fireheart noticed that Bluestar was struggling to keep up the pace. She grunted each time she jumped onto the next rock, and Fireheart had to slow down so that he didn’t pass her. Meanwhile, Fernpaw bounded ahead and he had to constantly call her back to his side. At the top of the slope, Bluestar stopped and sat down, wheezing. 

“Are you okay?” Fireheart asked, calling for Fernpaw and making sure she followed him before approaching Bluestar.

“Not so young.” panted Bluestar. 

The ginger tom felt a pang of worry. He had assumed that her physical injuries from the battle had healed. She certainly seemed sharp and snappish the other day, so where had this sudden weakness come from? It made her seem older and more vulnerable than ever. _Perhaps it’s just climbing in this heat_ , he thought hopefully. _After all, her pelt is thicker than mine_. _She doesn’t have to be sick all the time_. 

"Would you like me to catch you something?" Fernpaw asked. "When's the last time you ate today?"

"Fireheart, does your apprentice know nothing?!" Bluestar scoffed suddenly. Fernpaw shrank down as Fireheart rose to his paws, furious. 

"She knows more than I did at her age. She's trying to be nice! We're helping you get to Highstones very early in the day when she and I could be hunting or fighting. Things that would actually advance her training." Fireheart growled lowly. "Now, do you need some water or not?"

"I'm fine." Bluestar scowled. "Let's get on with it."

Fireheart exhaled roughly and turned to face his apprentice. 

"Your question was in good spirits, Fernpaw, but we're on foreign territory. You can't hunt here. If we were in ThunderClan territory I would absolutely tell you to go for it, but this is WindClan land. All the patrols you see cats going on, when they don't bring back prey it's because they were telling the other Clans exactly where not to cross. Do you understand?" 

"I think so. It'd be like if Ashpaw and I had two whole dens to ourselves and I didn't want him to come into my space."

"Exactly! Good girl. Thank you for being so patient with all this. I promise Highstones is worth it."

Fireheart glance back at Bluestar to make sure she hadn't moved before he observed the land. He peered nervously across the stunted gorse and heather that covered the uplands. This was WindClan territory, stretching away from them under the cloudless sky. They hadn't been back long in their own territory after seasons on the run from Brokenstar's tyranny. What would a WindClan patrol do if they found ThunderClan cats on their territory? He'd seen on the journey to bring them home that the cats of the moors followed the warrior code wherever they were, but surely their forced exile would make them more protective of their homeland. Fireheart wasn’t sure if he could protect his leader _and_ his apprentice against a whole patrol. 

“We must be careful not to be spotted,” he whispered to Fernpaw. She nodded obediently but Bluestar didn't hear. 

“What did you say?” called the leader. 

The breeze was stronger up here, and even though it did nothing to ease the sun’s burning heat, it carried Fireheart’s words away. 

“We must be careful they don’t see us!” Fireheart all but howled. 

“Why?” Bluestar demanded. “We’re traveling to the Moonstone. StarClan has granted us the right to travel safely!” 

The ginger tom sighed, realizing it would be a waste of time to argue. Any other time she would be right, but things were complicated here and now.

“I’ll lead the way,” He informed them. 

He knew the uplands well, having been both to Highstones and to find WindClan. 

_But we're not going to their camp_. Fireheart reminded himself. _And I'm used to the forest_. 

He almost wished that a WindClan patrol _would_ find them if only to guide them to Highstones.

The sun was reaching its highest point as they neared the swathe of gorse at the heart of WindClan’s territory. Fourtrees was far behind them, but there was still a long way to go before they reached the slope at the edge of the moor that ran down into Twoleg farmland. Fireheart paused. A hot breeze was blowing toward him, as stifling as the breath of a sick cat, and he knew their scent would be carried back through WindClan territory. He just hoped the perfume of the honey-rich heather would mask it. Beside him, Bluestar signaled with a flick of her tail and vanished into the gorse. 

"Where'd she go?" Fernpaw wondered, turning around to see why her leader had disappeared. 

"I wish I could tell you." Fireheart groaned, sinking to the ground. 

An unfamiliar yowl from behind them made his fur stand on end but he was too tired to do anything about it. Fernpaw hissed and spun around to face the newcomers. 

There were ShadowClan cats on WindClan territory, their fur bristling against the buffeting wind and narrowed eyes not doing much to guide them. 

“Hey! Do you know the way to Highstones?” The brown-and-white tom yowled hopefully. “It’s been so long! We’re completely lost!” 

“Stick with us!” Fireheart called back, flicking his tail and moving his paws in a friendly gesture. When they were close enough to hear him over the wind, he lowered his voice. 

“WindClan won’t take well to us being on their territory after they’ve just settled in.” 

“But we’re medicine cats.” The brown-and-white tom spluttered. “Why wouldn’t they let us pass?” 

“They will.” Bluestar chirped from beneath the undergrowth she’d slipped into. “My apologies for disappearing on you both, but I really needed to get away from that wind. It’s like the territory itself wants to rip my fur off!” 

“We can do that just fine!” A new voice howled furiously. 

There were cats just over the hill they’d crossed, moving effortlessly despite the wind threatening to sweep every cat off their paws. 

“Why are you on our territory?!” hissed a mottled dark brown tom.

Fireheart recognized him as Mudclaw, one of the senior warriors. A gray tabby warrior called Tornear was beside him, his back arched and his claws unsheathed. Fireheart had grown to know and respect these cats when he had escorted WindClan back from their exile in Twoleg territory, but all traces of their former alliance had vanished now. He didn’t recognize the smallest cat—an apprentice, perhaps, but every bit as fierce and wiry as his Clanmates.

“We need to get to Highstones!” Fireheart found himself howling over the wind. Good thing Bluestar had come back from whatever she'd been doing.

“We found ThunderClan, ShadowClan, _and_ RiverClan scents in our territory! You're not welcome here!” Mudclaw snapped.

“I am a leader!” Bluestar roared. “ These are medicine cats! We have a _right_ to speak with StarClan!” 

“StarClan? What have they done for us?” The apprentice scoffed. 

"Hey!" Fernpaw snapped. "My siblings are up there and I'm going to see them! Can you help us or not?!" 

"Stay your tongues, apprentices," Tornear growled. "Bluestar is right about having safe passage to speak with our ancestors. This may be our territory, but we are not to interfere with matters of the Stars."

Mudclaw deliberated and shook himself out. 

"We will escort you." He decided. “Although why ShadowClan thinks the Stars will want them is beyond me.”

So they trekked through the territory basically flattened to the ground with the three WindClan cats as guides. They hadn't gotten all that far when a storm broke out. The group took shelter in some nearby gorse bushes and Bluestar grumbled, dismayed. 

"Clearly they do not think I need their guidance." She scowled. 

"You're the leader of ThunderClan." Fireheart reminded her, exhausted. "You have every right to share tongues with your ancestors."

"What's sharing tongues?" The black apprentice asked. Fernpaw wriggled excitedly beside Fireheart. 

"I know what that is!" She crowed. "Can I say?" 

"Sure." Mudclaw snorted, amused. " It's always good to see kittens like yourself so happy about Clan traditions." 

"Okay, so just after sunhigh when the day is hottest, everyone in camp gathers to groom each other and tell stories. It's a way of keeping spirits high and cooling ourselves off." 

"We used to do it all the time, more frequently than other Clans might because it gets hot when the wind dies down. But then Brokentail drove us out and we abandoned the custom. Who knows what else we left behind when we went on the run." 

The grey-and-white ShadowClan tom flinched, eyes closed. 

“We’ve lost those traditions as well.” He murmured bitterly. “There are so many names and ceremonies, so much history lost to a leader who never so much as seen the Moonstone’s glow.” 

“What? What does that mean? Brokentail had nine lives, didn’t he? He was the leader of your Clan.” Tornear scowled. 

“None that I could see.” The grey-and-white tom spat. “Yellowfang taught me what to look for when Raggedstar lost a life. If Brokentail has nine lives, he did not get them from StarClan.”

"Runningnose… this doesn’t make sense. Where could they have come from?” Bluestar wondered. “Could he have just had the one life all this time?” 

“Perhaps. The threat of a leader coming back to life seeking retribution is enough to crush many cats under their paws. Who would take the risk?” 

“But… he’s lived so long.” Mudclaw objected. “We’ve been gone long enough that the average apprentice wouldn’t even know Tallstar’s name, much less anything else about WindClan. How could he have done all this, how could he have destroyed the forest with only one life?” 

“What if he had nine lives?” Fireheart wondered slowly, recalling exactly how he lost his last life. 

“What? StarClan wouldn’t touch him.” 

“Not from StarClan. There are other skies.” 

“Tigerclaw is definitely not going to StarClan.” Bluestar agreed. “But what does that mean, Fireheart? That evil cats can give lives as well?” 

“Possibly. But we shouldn’t have to worry about that. Nightstar has his StarClan-given lives, right?” 

“Blackstar, actually. They led together at first, but Nightstar was too sick. He stalks with our ancestors and Blackstar received his lives at the Moonstone.” The grey-and-white tom informed the group.

“Then what are you two doing here?!” Mudclaw demanded. “You should have gone with him!” 

“Sickness rages in ShadowClan. What would you have me do, leave my Clanmates to die without so much as a poppyseed to ease their journey?! Blackstar was fine. He took apprentices with him, as many do when going to the Moonstone. It’s how Littlepaw determined he wished to become a medicine cat.” 

“Runningnose says my name will be Littlecloud after I greet my ancestors as a medicine cat. Do you all know what the Moonstone looks like?” 

“Every apprentice makes the trip at some point during their training.” Mudclaw informed Littlecloud. “It keeps warrior apprentices close to the Stars, reminds us of our code and that our ancestors are watching.” 

“That sounds scary,” Fernpaw admitted. “How do you know your ancestors are proud of you?” 

“Have you done anything to make them think they shouldn’t be?” Fireheart wondered. 

“Well, you haven’t been very impressed with me lately.”

“That doesn’t mean StarClan won’t accept you, Fernpaw. You’re learning just like any other apprentice.” Bluestar informed her. “Though I do wish you would keep your paws where they belong. Fireheart has duties to ThunderClan that don’t always involve running after cheeky little mollies like you." Bluestar chuckled. 

“What’s that last word?” 

“Molly is another word for she-cat. It fell out of favor after my mother was born, but she said it all the time.” 

“What does Fireheart do aside from mentoring this young one?” Tornear wondered. “Run errands for his leader?”

“Fireheart’s the deputy!” Fernpaw crowed. 

The WindClan cats stiffened, alarmed at the words the apprentice had just spoken.

“Ah, my condolences for your loss.” 

“They go unneeded.” Bluestar scowled. “Tigerclaw is a traitor. He organized an attack against ThunderClan and tried to kill me in my den. Fireheart saved me from his treacherous ways and he has been cast out. You would do well to keep an eye out for him. He might be gathering allies.” 

“Not among ShadowClan,” Runningnose assured the group. 

“WindClan will revolt against any cat who dares to challenge our leader.” Tornear spat. “We will not be run out of our territory again!” 

“Well said.” Runningnose murmured. “It looks like the rain is letting up. Is it safe to keep moving?” 

Mudclaw ducked his head out to taste the air and test the ground. 

“We should be fine.” The dark brown tom insisted. “Let’s get you all to StarClan before moon-high.”


	11. Chapter Ten

#  **Chapter Ten**

“These routine patrols are going well enough.” Pebble offered from his sister’s side as they placed prey on the ShadowClan fresh-kill pile. “The camp is sturdy, there’s plenty of food, soon you guys won’t even need our help anymore.” 

“Hopefully,” Darkflower offered diplomatically. 

“Although it is quite disturbing that there are no kittens around.” Stone offered. “Every molly in BloodClan is expected to have at least one litter every two years.” 

“What’s a year?” Oakpaw wondered.

“Every season-cycle. When newleaf starts after leafbare.” Darkflower offered. “Though I can’t imagine who would be crazy enough to want to stay in the nursery so permanently. Every litter you raise, another one comes right after?” 

“I honestly can’t say I would mind that,” Sleekheart offered, content with the idea. “Kits are always great news.” 

“Sure, but would you want to have them in leafbare?” Stumpytail wondered.

“Not really, but it sounds like they time their litters. Every season-cycle doesn’t mean every leaf-bare. It could mean every newleaf instead.” 

“Well, if that’s something you want to try, feel free.” Tallpoppy scoffed from over by the warriors’ den. “I’ll pass. But ShadowClan will likely have more kits before our apprentice den is empty.” 

“Especially if Brownpaw keeps getting into trouble.” Stone snickered from beside her brother. “Poor scamp.” 

“Hey, it’s not his fault he’s an adventurous cat.” Pebble scowled. “Leave him be. You never listened to our father either when you were young.” 

“And you might have listened to him a bit too much, you dust-chaser.”

“What was that last word? It sounds like a warrior name.” Stumpytail noted. 

“Dust-chaser? Means you’re too scared to go after real prey so all you do is bat at dustballs in the corner.”

“Sounds too mean for a warrior name. It’d be like calling a warrior Crowfood or Foxheart.” Oakpaw offered. 

“I’m pretty sure there was a she-cat called Foxheart when Raggedstar was still around. IF you ever run into Yellowfang, she could tell you.” Darkflower offered.

“Speaking of Yellowfang, do you think she’d be willing to come back? Now that we’re doing better?” Sleekheart wondered. “She and Runningnose were so good at helping me with my kits… before, it makes no sense for her to just stay in ThunderClan.” 

“Well, at least we have a proper medicine cat. Apparently, she’s training a kittypet from Fireheart’s litter.” 

“I forgot he was a kittypet.” Tallpoppy snickered. “He’s done so well, I keep thinking some queen must have loved having him around as a kit. So caring, and just look at how well he’s treated Oakpaw despite everything.” 

“Well, Tigerclaw sure didn’t like him.” Stumpytail scoffed.

“Tigerclaw hates everyone. He hated his own apprentice when he was alive. Besides, didn’t Blackstar say that Tigerclaw was a traitor or something?”

“What? To who? What’d he do?” Oakpaw demanded.

“ThunderClan, obviously, and according to Blackstar, he tried to kill his leader.” Darkflower snorted.

“What?!” Every cat in the group yowled simultaneously. Darkflower winced, clearly regretting that she was now at the center of all this noise. 

“Yeah, someone in StarClan mentioned it. We can ask Runningnose when he gets back from the Moonstone.” Darkflower assured the group.

“Toadstools, this next Gathering is going to be the best one yet! We’re free of Brokentail, WindClan is back in the forest, ThunderClan’s deputy is a traitor… what do you think goes on in RiverClan?” Tallpoppy wondered. 

“Probably halfClan kits.” Stumpytail snorted. “Those fish-lovers never know how to stay in their own territory, I wouldn’t be surprised if halfClan kits came up every few moons.”

“What makes you say that?” Oakpaw wondered. 

“Foxdung.” Stumpytail cursed, a panicked look on his face. 

“It’s nothing you should be worried about, dear. Just a bit of humor that Stumpytail didn’t think through.” Sleekheart crooned. 

“But what’s he talking about? Why would a kit be from half a Clan instead of a whole one?” 

“That’s not… Stars above, Stumpytail, you’ve really done it now.” 

“Do you know where kittens come from, Oakpaw?” Stone asked gently, eyes alight with humor he didn’t quite understand. 

“The nursery.” 

“Yes!” Everyone exclaimed. 

“The nursery. Where Oakpaw lived at some point. That’s exactly where kittens come from. Good job, Oakpaw, you deserve first pick of the pile for that one and you can tell Blackstar I said that.” Darkflower said in a rushed breath. “Why don’t we go find your denmates are up to? We need to talk to Stumpytail about things that not every cat knows.” 

“But you all do know what you’re talking about.” 

“You younger cats don’t. And you don’t need to yet.” 

“Fine. I’ll ask Wetfoot.” 

“Oh, he will shred Stumpytail for even bringing it up, he’s definitely not going to tell you anything.” 

“I bet Fireheart will.” 

Darkflower laughed, a loud and gasping thing. 

“Yes, you amazing apprentice! Ask the ThunderClan deputy where kittens come from. I bet he has an answer all made up. Stars above, Oakpaw, you’re my favorite cat in all the world.” 

▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂

Oakpaw decided not to ask Wetfoot. His mentor had a lot on his mind, between deciding how to train him, hunting for the Clan in increasingly weird spaces, and mourning the cats he’s lost to Brokentail, Oakpaw figured he didn’t need Oakpaw asking questions that were lizard-brained or potentially dangerous. If his denmates didn’t know then maybe he shouldn’t either. 

Just as he was about to turn in for the morning, Blackstar spotted him. The white tom was coming out of the medicine clearing and flicked his tail to the red-brown tabby. 

“Having a good day, Oakpaw?” 

“Yes,” Oakpaw offered uncertainly. Nothing about his day was bad, at least. The last bit of it was just… confusing. 

“Doesn’t look like it.” 

“It was a good day!” Oakpaw assured him quickly. “Wetfoot took me hunting in a grassy place that wasn’t really wet underpaw like I’m used to, so it was kind of difficult. I hope we get to go back there again. There were a lot of small animals just ready for my paws.” 

“Ah, so you’re why the fresh-kill pile is so full.” 

“Well, I don’t know about that. I still had to get used to hunting there.” 

“I’m sure you will at some point.” Blackstar offered. 

“Say, you don’t have to answer this if it’s lizard-brained or something, but have you heard anything about RiverClan wandering out of their territory?” 

“They don’t share a border with us, so we haven’t really needed to watch out for them. Have you heard otherwise?” 

“Oh. If that’s the case, then no.” 

“Oakpaw-.” 

“It’s stupid, the older cats were joking around and they mentioned all the Clans anyway-.” 

“Oakpaw,” 

“I just haven’t seen Silverstream in a while and it just crossed my mind, is all.” 

“What did they say?” 

“They’re not in trouble, are they?” 

“No, I doubt they said anything troubling. But what were they talking about?” 

“Well, apparently you said Tigerclaw of ThunderClan was a traitor. So everyone is like what? When Darkflower brings it up and Tallpoppy said the Gathering would be the best one yet. Because ThunderClan’s deputy was a traitor and WindClan is back in the uplands and we’re free of Brokentail. So she says “what does RiverClan get up to?” and Stumpytail says “halfClan kits. Those fish-lovers never know how to stay in their own territory, I wouldn’t be surprised if halfClan kits came up every few moons.” And I just wanted to know what he was talking about, because why wouldn’t a kit come from one Clan?” 

“Why indeed, kitten.” Blackstar laughed. “Don’t worry, they’re not in trouble for what they said. I bet they tried to shoo you off after that, didn’t they?” 

“They stumbled around a bit, asked if I know where kits come from, but yeah.” 

“Where do kits come from, Oakpaw?” 

“The nursery.” 

“That’s about all you need to know, for now.” Blackstar assured him. “But you know how Pinepelt was your father and Dawnflower was your mother?” 

“Yes…” 

“A halfClan kit is a cat whose mother would be in ShadowClan, like yours is, but their father is in another Clan. Like if a cat from WindClan or RiverClan was your father instead of Pinepelt.” 

“Would they be nicer?” 

“What?” 

“Would a RiverClan cat be nicer than Pinepelt was?” 

“Kit… I bet any cat would be nicer than Pinepelt was.” 

“Then why couldn’t a RiverClan cat be my father?” 

“Because it’s against the warrior code. If your father was from RiverClan, you would have to fight them if anything ever came up.” 

“Like what? You said we don’t share a border with them.” 

“Well, we’re expanding our territory, right?” 

“Yes. Because we need to eat.” 

“What if the river that runs through our territory into the marshes runs through RiverClan territory as well? They would want to fight over the rights to the prey from the river because they’re a bunch of fish-faces who think they’re the only ones who eat fish.” 

“But I like minnows!” 

“Yeah, you do. Do you want to fight a cat you know in RiverClan because you both like minnows and there’s not enough to share?” 

“I guess you’re right. I wouldn’t want to fight Fireheart over territory, but he’s not my father.” 

“Same idea.” 

“Well, that’s a dumb idea. I can’t not fight Fireheart just because he’s my friend.” 

“What if it was Dawnflower in WindClan?” 

“Oh. Yeah, I can see why that would be a problem. I wouldn’t fight my mother at all.” 

“So that’s why we generally stick to our own territories. It’s okay to have friends in other Clans like you do, but you understand that you’ll have to fight them someday.” 

“But I like Tallstar and Fireheart.” 

“I know you do. They’re good cats.” 

“Thanks, Blackstar.” 

“I don’t think I helped much. You still have a sour look on your face.” 

“Because something else occurred to me.” 

“What now?” 

“Cats don’t always come back from kits being born.” 

“Not… not always. Rarely. Very rarely does a cat die from giving birth. That’s what the medicine cats are for.” 

“But… if a RiverClan cat has halfClan kits, would the medicine cat be there?” 

“I don’t see why not, Oakpaw. Where is this coming from?” 

“I don’t… I don’t know. I just think maybe Stumpytail was right. And if he is… what if Silverstream doesn’t come back from that?” 

“Silverstream is one cat out of an entire Clan. She would be of age to have kits, but maybe she would, maybe she wouldn’t. Cats don’t die just because they have kittens just like cats don’t die when they get hurt.” 

“I just… I haven’t seen Silverstream in a while. What if that’s what happened to her?” 

“It’s very unlikely.” Blackstar offered quietly. “I bet you’ll see her at the next Gathering with Greenflower and Fireheart and Tallstar.” 

“I hope so.” Oakpaw mumbled. “It’d be just my dumb luck. I got my mother killed, why not someone else’s?” 

Blackstar didn’t say anything, mouth open as he processed Oakpaw’s words. 

“You-.” 

“Thanks for talking to me, Blackstar.” Oakpaw offered, getting to his paws and going to his nest in the apprentice den.

“Oakpaw, you didn’t-.” 

Blackstar trailed off. 

“StarClan, damn all this… that RiverClan queen better be alright.” 


	12. Chapter Eleven

#  **Chapter Eleven**

“I think that’s the furthest I’ve ever walked in my life.” Fernpaw admitted when she settled into her nest. 

“Knowing you, you’ll go further.” Splashpaw snickered. “If only because Lightpaw drags you there.” 

“Will you ever shut up about that?” 

“Absolutely not!” Patchpaw crowed. “StarClan must have missed a few things when they sent dear Lightpaw to us, and it looks like you’re two hairs short of a full pelt yourself.”

“You’re not exactly the best apprentice out there.” Fernpaw scowled. “At least I can hunt.” 

“Oh, Patchpaw… you gonna take that sitting down?” Lightpaw sneered, coming back from a long day in the medicine cat den. 

“Got nothing to say to a cat who spends half her days with her claws sheathed. Will Fireheart ever let you fight with the rest of us or is stocking the prey all you’re good for?” 

“Too far, Patchpaw.” Cloudpaw insisted. “You know how touchy she is about her training.” 

“Well, brother-mine, perhaps she should do better.” 

“Fireheart is the one in charge of her training, are you saying our Clan deputy is knowingly failing his apprentice?” 

“I’m saying that I know moves by the pawful and she barely knows the duck-and-swipe. If that’s on Fireheart then maybe she should ask for another mentor. Since he’s obviously too busy for the likes of her.” 

“That’s enough, Patchpaw.” Splashpaw growled. “If Mousefur or Runningwind were deputy, they’d be having the exact same trouble. The entire Clan is shaken up by whatever happened with Tigerclaw, and it looks like Fireheart is the one keeping us together.” 

“That’s not what the elders say.” 

“Well then maybe the elders need to learn a few tricks.” Splashpaw snorted. 

“Or Fireheart could quit spending so much time with cats from other Clans,” Lightpaw grumbled. 

“What Fireheart does with his time is not your business,” Fernpaw growled. “it’s mine, since I’m the one he’s training, and I’m saying that he does fine with what he’s got. So what if I focus more on hunting than fighting, we’ll need food more than border patrols come leafbare anyway. Keep your noses out of the air before someone comes up and slashes your throats.” 

Fernpaw stormed out of the den with a lash of her tail and a toss of her head. She headed straight for the medicine den, where Frostfur, Brindleface, and Goldenflower sat with Nutleaf and Yellowfang. 

“You’re not sick, are you?” The oldest of the five she-cats drawled. 

“No. I just need someone to talk to. I can come back if you’re busy.”

“No need,” Brindleface offered gently, beckoning her daughter forward with her tail. “We were just chatting, is all. What’s the matter, dear?” 

Fernpaw slunk forward with a conflicted expression and curled up by her mother’s haunches. 

“The other apprentices don’t think I’m good enough.” She admitted. 

“Who would that be?” Nutleaf asked sharply. “If it’s one of my kits, I’ll show them what apprentices are good for.” 

“Hush, Nutleaf, she’s already distressed,” Goldenflower murmured. “Go on, Fernpaw. You know they’re wrong, don’t you?” 

“What if they’re not?” The grey-spotted apprentice mumbled.

“Hmm?” Brindleface asked. 

“What if they’re not wrong? I’m barely good at hunting and I don’t really get to fight. Ashpaw knows more moves than me and he’s been training for the same amount of time. It seems like what I’m good for is getting into trouble.” 

“Well, I won’t deny that you’re far more adventurous than your brother is,” Brindleface offered wryly, causing the group to chuckle. “you are definitely not enough of a troublemaker that it’s all you’re good for. If anything, your mentor has earned the role of Clan troublemaker, ask anyone and I bet you ten mice they’ll tell you some tale about him.”

Fernpaw snickered, glad to hear some good news about Fireheaert. 

“The others don’t think he’s a good mentor.” 

“The others didn’t see that boy train two cats at once.” Frostfur deadpanned. “He’s having a hard time, is all.” 

“Maybe Bluestar was wrong to give him someone to train on top of everything else.” Yellowfang noted. 

“He’s not a bad mentor!” Fernpaw hissed. “I know how to hunt because of him. He’s just scared.” 

“Scared? Fireheart?” Nutleaf mused. “Of what?” 

“Oh,” Fernpaw mumbled, shrinking in on herself. “You didn’t-? Nevermind, then. He’s not a bad mentor.” 

“Fernpaw,” Brindleface leaned down and curled up so that her breath tickled her daughter’s ears. “Fernpaw, Fireheart’s not in trouble. I think we’ve all been underestimating how much he has to deal with. If you know something about how he’s doing, we can help him.” 

“Well, he… he has been avoiding fighting practice. He doesn’t like going to the Sandy Hollow, especially not for group training. When he’s not with Bluestar, we hunt a lot. He focuses on being really quiet all the time and stalking lightly.” 

“That could just be stealth training,” Brindleface mused. “I remember, my mentor went through a phase where he wanted me to sneak up on all kinds of things, even other cats.” 

“But that’s Fireheart’s style of doing things, he didn’t pass that onto Brackenheart or Cinderpelt. So what changed?” Frostfur wondered. 

“Did Fireheart ever say why he wanted you to be so quiet?” Goldenflower prompted. “Or why he doesn’t want you training?” 

“Not usually, but this last time he was more nervous than usual so he let some things slip. He’s scared of Tigerclaw.” 

“Aren’t we all,” Brindleface murmured, thinking of Darkstripe and his reaction to Dustpelt sometimes. 

“He was the one who called Tigerclaw out in the first place.” Goldenflower recalled. “He and Ravenpaw were both at Sunningrocks. They both had such adverse reactions to Tigerclaw then, I thought it was just because they’d see him in battle. But what if there was something else to it? Did he know something about Tigerclaw that we didn’t? Even all the way back then?” 

“No way,” Yellowfang snorted. “They might have seen him kill Oakheart, that would traumatize anyone, and Tigerclaw told that tale long after I got here.” 

“So what’s got him so scared?” Brindleface wondered. “And what’s the training grounds got to do with it?” 

“What brilliant timing, look who’s returned from a hunting trip?” Nutleaf snorted. “Why don’t we see what Fireheart has to say for himself?” 

“Oh no,” Fernpaw groaned. “He’s going to know that I embarrassed him!” 

“Oh, sweetheart, if Fireheart were the type to embarrass easily, he wouldn’t have a chance with Sandstorm. Why don’t you see if she’s around too, Nutleaf? They might shed some light on all this.” 

Fireheart and Sandstorm joined the group without question. The ginger tom’s eyes were dull and his pelt looked like it hadn’t been washed in at least a moon. His mate worried over him visibly, pushing her head under his own to raise his chin or twining her tail with his. It didn’t help that they were suddenly surrounded by the queens. If anything, Fireheart’s posture dipped even further, and he slumped to the ground as if a pile of rocks had landed on him.

“I set aside the day tomorrow,” He said when he saw Fernpaw. “We need to get you more used to using your claws, and the hollow should be empty anyway. If Bluestar doesn’t need anything-.” 

“We can handle Bluestar, dear.” Brindleface murmured gently, shocked at the deputy’s appearance and quiet, defeated tone. “And I’m sure Fernpaw won’t mind going with Splashpaw and Darkstripe tomorrow. When’s the last time you got any rest?” 

“Certainly not the past few days.” Sandstorm grumbled. 

Fireheart snorted and nudged her paw with his own. 

“Thanks for helping out, but you didn’t have to stay up the entire time.” 

“Neither do you,” Goldenflower insisted. “Now, what in StarClan’s name has got you looking like a fox chewed you up and spit you out?” 

“If I see that foxheart in StarClan, he’ll wish he’d never been born!” Sandstorm snapped. 

“He’d probably get in anyway.” Fireheart grumbled. “And seriously? Greystripe is the one you’re worried about right now?” 

“He’s the unknown here. We knew what Tigerclaw was about from the beginning, but Greystripe… I never thought he’d turn on us like this.” Sandstorm admitted.

“Wait a mouse’s heartbeat, you know where Greystripe is?!” Brindleface hissed. Out the corner of her eye, the grey tabby queen saw Nutleaf flinch. 

“Nutleaf… do you know too? What happened with Greystripe? Where did he run off to?” Yellowfang demanded. 

“That’s not why we asked them to talk.” The brown tabby deflected quietly. “And I stay out of warriors’ affairs. Silverstream needed me, and her family deserved to know what happened to her.” 

“What does Silverstream have to do with-? Oh… oh StarClan, her kits-.” 

“Do not say anything about those kits that will ruin their chances here.” Fireheart growled suddenly, pushing himself upright. “Think what you want of Greystripe, I’m done cleaning up after him. But Featherkit and Stormkit can’t be cast out for who their parents are.” 

“Stars above, Fireheart, that’s not-!” Goldenflower began. “Brave boy, mousebrain, we would never hold that against kits. It might become a problem if RiverClan wants them, but right now they’re ThunderClan. I’m nursing them and they will grow up strong and healthy and loved. They’re Silverstream’s kits, first and foremost, and she was your friend.” 

“Thank you,” Fireheart murmured, collapsing back to the ground. 

“That can’t be all there is, though. You show up half-dead and Fernpaw over here thinks you’re the best cat in the forest but you’ve got her clearing out the prey instead of training at the hollow.” 

“I…”

“Tell them why.” Sandstorm murmured. “It doesn’t have to be everything.” 

“I have been avoiding the hollow, and I’m sorry about that, Fernpaw, I will absolutely make it up to you. The Greystripe thing is recent. I was out of camp because I thought I caught his scent at some point and couldn’t pin it down. That’s not why Fernpaw hasn’t been training, though. I just… being deputy isn’t what I signed up for. Bluestar is never around and when she is, she’s… not herself. The dreams I’ve been having show me all the ways this could go wrong and whenever I even think about leaving camp to train with Fernpaw, the last training session I had always comes back, and I can’t-. That’s not something Fernpaw should have to deal with. So I’ve been focusing on hunting a bit more.”

“What training session?” Frostfur prompted.

“What dreams?” Yellowfang asked sharply. 

“Calm down,” Brindleface insisted. “And let Fireheart explain a few things. Which training session, Fireheart?” 

“The reason Swiftpaw and your litter got their names, Frostfur. I woke up Cinderpaw practically at dawn and she woke up everyone else, so we went on a sunrise patrol with Greystripe, Darkstripe, and Tigerclaw. We split the apprentices up three ways and Tigerclaw kept Greystripe with him. I got back to the hollow with my group and Darkstripe was there with his. They were training and we joined them for a bit when Cinderpelt came haring out of nowhere, saying Greystripe and Tigerclaw were fighting. I follow her and find that Brackenheart is trying to get them to calm down but he’s not having much luck. Tigerclaw wants to know where he’s been going all the time and how Brackenheart has been training. That was a mix of me, Sandstorm, and Dustpelt, by the way. So Brackenheart is frozen up, I talk Tigerclaw into backing down by telling him what I just told you, and he leaves. Greystripe gets defensive, we fight, next thing I know, Brackenheart’s standing over me and the last thing I hear is him talking about herbs. So training hasn’t been a pleasant experience but that’s not Fernpaw’s fault and her battle practice shouldn’t suffer because of it.” 

“Fireheart… it sounds like you got mauled, no one would expect you to revisit a place where you were severely injured-.” 

“Warriors go on patrols all the time after battles. I got better at being around Sunningrocks.” 

“It sounds like you should stay away from there too, at least for a while. Stars above… why wouldn’t you come to someone earlier? The medicine cats know how to deal with all kinds of hurt.” Frostfur urged.

“Oh yes, I’m going to tell my sister and her mentor that I got clawed up sticking my nose where I shouldn’t have.” 

“You got torn to pieces because that heartless rogue didn’t see that you were helping him! And you saw someone get killed. Fireheart… that’s not normal. Cats die in battle, sure, but even that’s rare because we don’t just kill our enemies. We want them to go home, not die at our paws! That would shake anyone up.” Yellowfang insisted.

“And if all this weren’t enough, I can tell you right now that Bluestar is not herself. Her uncle had a similar affliction. We don’t know what it is, but it makes sense that Bluestar is shaken from Tigerclaw's betrayal enough that she's not feeling well.” Goldenflower explained. 

“So, Fireheart, it sounds like you’re trying to be a leader with no deputy as well as her personal messenger and you’re leading every patrol you can think of. You’re also trying to keep an eye out for both Tigerclaw and Greystripe. How in the world have you not collapsed sooner?!” Nutleaf demanded. 

“Sheer determination and stubbornness.” Sandstorm informed them. “And nightmares, so he can’t exactly sleep.” 

“That, I can fix.” Nutleaf snorted. “To start with. Chamomile’s good for sleeplessness. If that doesn’t work, we can try poppyseeds.” 

“Finally, the girl is using the knowledge I gave her.” Yellowfang crowed. “And confidently, at that. Fireheart, I’m afraid you won’t be taking Fernpaw out for a while. Or doing much of anything else besides eating, sleeping, and possibly coming here to sort out your dreams. You look exhausted, you sound exhausted, and I guarantee if you take one more step towards somewhere that is not a nest, I will stuff poppyseeds in your next mouse. Are we clear?” The old grey medicine cat hissed, bringing her face close to Fireheart’s. 

“Yes.” He groaned, leaning against Sandstorm. 

“Finally,” the lighter ginger she-cat sighed. “By the Stars, Fireheart, just go to sleep. I’ll stock the freshkill pile for half a moon if it means you get some rest.” 

“No need, dear, we’ll be putting the rest of these strong young cats to use.” 

“Don’t badger Dustpelt too much, he’s been trying to help.” Fireheart mumbled. 

“We didn’t know so much was going on, dear.” Frostfur admitted. “A Clan is supposed to be strong because we help each other out. You can’t take on the role of five cats at once and expect no one to notice.” 

“No one did in my dreams.” Fireheart mumbled. 

“Well, we’re here now. And we’re going to help however we can.” Brindleface insisted. “If that means Fernpaw gets a new mentor, then Fernpaw gets a new mentor.” 

“But I like Fireheart!” Her daughter yelped, alarmed. “He’s a good mentor!” 

“We know, sweetheart,” Frostfur crooned. “We’ve seen it with our own eyes. But he’s dealing with a lot right now, and Bluestar shouldn’t have given him another apprentice in the first place. You can still spend time with him and he likes being involved with every cat, so he’ll seek you out no matter what. He’s not forgetting you, he just needs a break.” 

“Okay.” Fernpaw sighed, walking over to stand before Fireheart. “It sounds like a lot has happened to you. I’m not sure I get all of it like they do, but I hope you feel better soon. I’m gonna be the best hunter thanks to you. Right after Sandstorm, of course.” 

“Even Sandstorm doesn’t know what I’ve taught you so far. You’ll be fine.” Fireheart promised. “Thank you for taking this so well.” 

“Well, now I know that you’re not leaving me behind because you want to.” 

“Of course not, kit. You’re a good apprentice. I just can’t have an apprentice right now.” 

“What he can have is the nest near the center that he’d been avoiding. Deputy gets one of the best spots in the warriors’ den, why are you passing that up?” Goldenflower wondered. 

“Because he’s a softhearted mousebrain in denial about his role as deputy.” Sandstorm snorted. 

“I didn’t want any of this.” Fireheart grumbled. “I would have been just as happy training Fernpaw as I was training Cinderpelt.” 

“And Brackenheart.” Sandstorm chimed. Fireheart turned his sleepy gaze at her, confused.

“We all trained Brackenheart.” He said. 

“And yet he named himself after you.” Frostfur snickered. “Come on, you all. We’ve got things to do, cats to see, patrols to assign.” 

The snowy she-cat strolled out to the main clearing, followed by Goldenflower, Brindleface, and Yellowfang. 

“This will be good.” Nutleaf snickered.

“Cats of ThunderClan!” Frostfur’s sharp voice rang throughout the camp. “We need to talk!” 

Cats stumbled out of the den, confused, as they saw three queens and a medicine cat standing below Highrock. 

“Where’s Bluestar?” 

“Why are you calling us?” 

“We’ve failed as a Clan and enough is enough.” Goldenflower spat. “Officially, Yellowfang has called this meeting as is her right as a medicine cat. Unofficially, Fireheart came back half-dead this morning after three days of hunting and patrolling. He seems to have single-pawedly restocked the fresh-kill pile and he scented both Greystripe and Tigerclaw on our territory. What do you have to say for yourselves?!” 

“Show me where.” Dustpelt insisted from the crowd. “I don’t think Greystripe will be an issue if we talk to him, but Tigerclaw is a serious threat from here.” 

“Thank you, Dustpelt. Your opinion is welcome and we will heed your advice. Anyone else?!” Brindleface demanded.

“Why isn’t Bluestar saying any of this?” Mousefur demanded.

“That’s another thing.” Yellowfang replied. “Bluestar is unwell. Her mind has turned against her and she might not come off as the leader you once knew.” 

“Then she needs to retire!” Smallear snapped. “Pinestar did.” 

“Pinestar was a coward, Bluestar is not!” Halftail scowled. “She’s sick, probably like Goosefeather was, you cranky old badger!” 

“Goosefeather?!” One-eye yelped. “Can we get Bluestar to step down? Featherwhisker got Goosefeather to retire.” 

“StarClan please, no.” Fireheart groaned from where he sat with Sandstorm, Nutleaf, and Fernpaw. “I don’t want nine lives, I just want to sleep.” 

“And sleep you will, dear.” Frostfur sighed. “We just need to get through this meeting first.” 

“Well you’re not doing such a great job, anyway!” Longtail spat. 

“He’s doing all he can!” Fernpaw snarled. 

“Doesn’t look like it. You’re behind in every way that matters. He’s supposed to be your mentor, isn’t he?” 

“He trained two of us at once, foxheart, I don’t see you doing that!” Brackenheart sneered. “If Fireheart is so worn out, then my mother is right. We have failed as a Clan. He’s not the leader yet, and he’s already taken the role. Leaders have deputies! Who’s going to step up and make sure he doesn’t collapse where he stands?! Because it’s obviously not you!” 

“At the very least, we can set up more border patrols for foreign scents.” Whitestorm called out. “I can handle that, if I may.” 

“Thank you, Whitestorm.” 

“My littermates and I can tackle the hunting, if you want. We can also keep the apprentices busy.” Brightstorm insisted.

“Keep them busy for what?! Their mentors should have a say.” Longtail objected. 

“No, because you will be taking a more active role as a warrior. “ Goldenflower sneered. “You will be looking for Tigerclaw, stocking the freshkill pile, and making sure the other Clan know just how much of a threat he is. You won’t have time to train your own apprentices and when you do, it better be for their fighting skills and you better include Fernpaw. Am I clear?!” Brindleface snapped. 

“Yes, Brindleface.” Longtail grumbled. 

“I’m not sure I heard you.” 

“Yes, Brindleface!” Longtail and several other cats yowled.

“Good. Now, let’s get to work.”


	13. Chapter Twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A mournful Gathering

#  **Chapter Twelve**

ShadowClan was getting better at rediscovering traditions as the greenleaf wore on. Tallpoppy’s kits and Sleekheart’s new litter were watched with keen interest. The queens were fed on a rigid schedule and the kits were played with whenever they got bored. They were told story after story that the older cats could scrounge up, having begged some of their friends in other Clans to remember some of the kinder tales they knew of ShadowClan. WindClan, of course, had a long memory and a well-kept history so they were the most helpful. RiverClan spoke of how the ancient leaders contributed to the warrior code. ThunderClan suggested they focus on how their traits came about. The Gathering was a peaceful time for once in every Clan cat’s memory, but peaceful does not mean all is well. 

“ThunderClan brings grave news to those who don’t already know. Our former deputy, Tigerclaw, is a traitor. He set rogues on ThunderClan’s camp with the intention of trying to kill me and claim leadership. I have appointed Fireheart in his place.” Bluestar announced. 

Cats from all four Clans cheered for the ginger tom and he basked in the praise while it lasted. Bluestar warned the other Clans that Tigerclaw might not have left the forest and he might have other cats under his command. They were not members of ThunderClan, for sure. The other leaders assured her that their Clans would know to deal with the traitor appropriately when the time came. Tallstar and Blackstar both spoke of how their Clans were adjusting, taking the time after to compare words for certain rituals. There were new warriors named in WindClan and new kits to bring joy to ShadowClan. Crookedstar’s news was rather grave, informing the Clans of the death of his daughter and a deficit in the river. 

“No!” Oakpaw wailed, horrified. “You take that back! She can’t be gone! She can’t-!” 

Wetfoot shushed his apprentice but enough cats heard and everyone knew of the friendship between the cats who had returned WindClan to the forest. 

Fireheart winced when Wetfoot caught his gaze with an agonized look. 

“Go to them,” Bluestar offered from the Great Rock. He dipped his head and weaved his way through the crowd to stand before the two ShadowClan cats. 

“Did she die having her kits?” Wetfoot hissed breathlessly. “Because Oakpaw talked to Blackstar about it… I think he had a dream or something.” 

“That’s exactly what happened.” Fireheart murmured worriedly. “Has he talked to Runningnose about this?” 

“Briefly, but we didn’t know for sure… Stars above, this is going to crush him.” 

Oakpaw backed up from where he sobbed into his mentor’s flank to stare at Fireheart. 

“You were with her, weren’t you?” He whispered. “Did she have her kits?” 

“Yes, she did. They’re fine kits. Both breathing well and eating enough and their eyes are open.” 

“They don’t live in RiverClan?” 

“Not yet, they were found by ThunderClan and we couldn’t risk travelling with them in unfamiliar territory.”

“Makes sense. But they’re okay?” 

“Yes, Oakpaw. They’ll be just fine. Their names are Featherpaw and Stormpaw. One looks like they’ll have blue eyes and the other one looks like they’ll have amber.” 

“Amber eyes are pretty.” Oakpaw mumbled. “Silverstream… I was hoping she’d see me get my warrior name.” 

“She will, kit…” Greenflower murmured from somewhere above him. “She’ll be cheering right next to your mother. Those two will be the loudest cats in StarClan.” 

“Oakfur, no, Oakpelt, no, Oakleaf.” Greenflower snickered. 

“Oakflower or Oakstream.” Fireheart deadpanned. 

“More like Oakheart.” Greenflower shot back.

The older cats burst into laughter. 

“I think there was an Oakheart in RiverClan already, it’s too soon to use the name again.” Wetfoot reasoned. 

“Besides, all the young cats I know have tried naming themselves after me and I’m sick of it. Pick a better name.” Fireheart groaned. 

“Yeah, Oakpaw, pick a better name!” A grey ThunderClan apprentice shouted across the clearing. “Heart’s gonna be my suffix!” 

“What did I literally just say, Fernpaw?!” Fireheart snapped playfully. 

“No, it’ll be mine!” A ginger and white WindClan apprentice informed everyone.

“You know what, you all can call yourselves whatever you want. It’s not like the leaders are going to listen.” Fireheart told them. 

“Sure they will!” Fernpaw crowled, barrelling through the crowd with the ginger and white WindClan tom, (Gorsepaw, Oakpaw thinks numbly. By the Stars, he’s an apprentice now.) at her heels. “Because you’re the best!” 

“Fireheart! Fireheart!” Gorsepaw cheers. 

“Fireheart!” Fernpaw calls. 

“Fireheart!” Oakpaw cackles waterily. 

Other cats join in and soon the Gathering is full of cats laughing and calling out the ThunderClan deputy’s name. The ginger tom whined and pushed his nose into Oakpaw’s fur. 

“Look what you started, kit!” The bright ginger tom hissed playfully. 

The clamor died down and eventually the Gathering broke into smaller groups. The night was calmer but no quieter, and the air of grief that swallowed Oakpaw whole was felt by every cat who encountered him.

Later on, when the Gathering was officially declared over, Oakpaw picked his way over to the Great Rock where the leaders sat. 

“I- I’m sorry,” He stammered. “For making such a c-comm-motion. I should have handled my feelings quieter. I-didn’t-mean-to-disturb-the-Gathering-I-just-.” 

“Breathe, kit, it’s alright.” Crookedstar snorted, leaping down to stand in front of the light brown tabby. “You were her friend. She wasn’t just taking pity on you or looking after you. She actually liked having you around. She learned things from you that she would have otherwise. She will definitely be cheering for you in StarClan when you get your warrior name.” 

“With my mother,” Oakpaw mumbled, shifting his gaze to the ground. 

“With your mother.” Crookedstar hissed through his teeth, eyes wide with realization. “I’m sorry, kit. At least you know they love you. And you’ll see them both in StarClan.” 

“Yeah…” Oakpaw choked out. “Thank you.” 

Crookedstar touched his muzzle to the top of Oakpaw’s head and padded off, heavy pawsteps dragging against the ground. As if broken out of some trance, Bluestar and Tallstar followed shortly after. 

“My deputy and his group will catch up with their Clanmates, I’m sure.” The grey she-cat drawled, amused. “You speak wisely and from the heart, from what I’ve seen. Your warrior name will be one to watch out for, even if it isn’t Oakheart.” 

The black and white WindClan leader dipped his head solemnly. 

“We tell each other to look to the stars, but it doesn’t always measure up to having the real thing around, does it?” He purred sadly. Oakpaw shook his head. 

“It’s not fair.” He mumbled. 

“It really isn’t. Especially not for a cat so young, but you are strong and brave. You will make it through this. You must promise me something, though.” 

“Of course, what do you need?” 

“You must live, young one, to see all that takes place before the stars. You don’t have to know every ancestor or always be thankful, but on your worst nights, you can look up and know that your friends and kin are with you. Here and in StarClan. You must live to rejoice in that.” 

“I… I will.” Oakpaw’s voice cracked. “How did you-?” 

“I felt a similar way when my parents passed.” Tallstar admitted bitterly. “Talk to your medicine cat, your mentor, even your leader will know something of how you feel. There’s more than one way to know StarClan is there for you.” 

“Thank you, Tallstar.” Oakpaw murmured, pushing his nose into patched fur. “Thank you so much. I won’t let you down.” 

The WindClan leader licked the top of his head, lifting his gaze to Blackstar and mouthing something Oakpaw didn’t catch before padding away from the Great Rock. 

“Do you know what he was talking about?” Blackstar asked quietly, eyes brimming with some emotion Oakpaw had no name for. “What Tallstar just said, do you know what he was talking about? Finding StarClan?” 

“Yes,” Oakpaw admitted. “It’s not exactly what I was going to do. I mean, like he said, there’s more than one way, right? I was just going to go to the Moonstone and see what happened. I don’t… at least I don’t think I want to. I don’t intend to hurt myself to get answers from StarClan.” 

“Okay,” Blackstar exhaled roughly. “We’ll talk more about this when we get back to camp. Go find your friends.” 

▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂

“Is there… Stars, this will sound weird.” 

“I’ve been helping you rebuild your group from the ground up, Blackstar. Not much phases me these days.” Stone offered. 

“Are there ways to tell when cats need more help than herbs can give?” 

“You’re thinking of that poor kit who lost his friend. Oakpaw, right?” 

“Among others. ShadowClan is more than a little rundown, We’ve got our camp and our preystock is back to normal, thanks for that, by the way. But we don’t have the numbers we used to. There’s only so many cats we can lean on, and not every cat is able to handle the problems each cat is dealing with. We can’t possibly pile them all on Runningnose.” 

“It sounds like that’s part of his job. Or that it should be.” Stone insisted. “Because you’re right to say there are ails that some herbs can’t cure, that not every cat can see. On the second paw, it’s not your fault that someone else did see it. It’s not a life experience anyone should have, much less a kit.” 

“Our entire Clan is a life experience that shouldn’t be had.” Wetfoot scowled from nearby. “What can be done about it but living life and looking out for each other?” 

“Apologies, Wetfoot, I hadn’t meant to wake you.” 

“You didn’t… I was going to come to you about this anyway. Oakpaw’s not the only one who feels the loss of his kin, but he is the most vocal about it. Our young cats might not know that getting to StarClan won’t solve their problems.” 

“What does that mean?” Stone asked warily. “I thought StarClan was a place cats couldn’t get to.” 

“It normally isn’t. Either you touch the Moonstone and they speak to you or you die.” Wetfoot scowled. “Oakpaw said later on that he wanted to go to the Moonstone, but he’s been muttering about his mother and then you told me what Tallstar mentioned and I just-. I’m scared he’ll try something worse if it doesn’t work.” 

“He can’t.” Stone snapped. “None of them can! What is up with you forest cats?! Where is your will to live? Don’t you have a warrior’s spirit?!” She spat. 

“Gone,” Blackstar snorted. “Along with half my Clan. Oakpaw’s father tried to use your group to kill us all, you think there won’t be scars from that?! And that’s after Brokentail’s reign. Cats were born, raised, and dead before he was defeated. Many died early, but some have gone to adulthood not knowing anything else. Gone is our warrior’s spirit and half the time it takes my will to live with it. I just wish my Clanmates didn’t have to feel the same way. Why do our apprentices know this pain so young? Did we fail them so badly?”

“We failed no one.” Wetfoot scowled. “Oakpaw is right about going to the Moonstone. I have some questions for my ancestors, and I think it’s about time we got answers.”

“Not tonight.” Blackfoot decided. “It’s close to dawn, we should sleep while we can and stock up on prey. I’ll call a meeting tomorrow night and we’ll see who’s still eager to question the cats that gave us this Clan.”


	14. Chapter Thirteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fire! Fire! The forest is on fire! Also RiverClan sees Silverstream's kits as something of a bargaining chip. They're wrong.

Fireheart couldn't relax. The Gathering left him restless and uneasy. Oakpaw's welfare clawed at his every waking thought and it was all he could do not to race to the Thunderpath and howl for the younger tom. He settled for wrapping himself around Stormkit and Featherkit, who squealed at the loss of contact of Goldenfower’s part but chirped happily when they saw his ginger pelt.

“Papa!” Featherkit squealed.

Fireheart had learned to stop begging the pair to not call him their father because they looked at him and saw what Darkstripe was to Ashkit and Fernkit. They saw the deputy as their father, and all the denial in the world wouldn't change that choice.

No matter how many times he told them about Greystripe and Silverstream, or how Greenflower would take good care of them when they were sent to RiverClan. He tried so hard not to keep their hopes up, but they were determined that he was lying.

“We're ThunderClan cats through and through, Dad. Who we were born to won't change that.” Featherkit had proclaimed one day.

Now, they squirmed eagerly to stand on their own paws.

“Swiftclaw showed us a battle move! Watch this!” Featherkit chirped enthusiastically, rearing up on her back paws and slamming her front paws down full-force. Fireheart stifled a howl of pain, glad when it came as a whimper.

“My back!” He croaked. “Who taught you that move?”

“Cinderpelt says you do it all the time!” Featherkit meowed, less sure of herself. “Is it bad? Are you in pain?!” She gasped. Fireheart shook his head.

“I'll be fine.” He grumbled as he staggered to his paws. “Make sure you don't use as much force the next time you try that move. You could actually injure someone like that.”

“I'm sorry!” Featherkit wailed hysterically. “I didn't want you to get hurt!”

“You're fine, Featherkit, just big for your age. And with big paws come big bruises. I'm still alive.” Fireheart insisted.

“I certainly hope so.” Bluestar chortled from over by the entrance to the nursery. “Who else is going to lead the Clan?”

“I can think of several cats off the top of my head.” Fireheart deadpanned.

“Whitestorm's got kits in the nursery and Darkstripe would need a bit more time to adjust before taking on the role of deputy. I chose you for a reason.” The leader insisted.

“Yeah, because Fireheart's the best!” Stormkit exclaimed.

“He was born to be leader!” Featherkit bragged.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, why don’t you see if Goldenflower minds you going to find Swiftclaw. I want to talk to him about that move.” Fireheart grumbled.

“Oh, don’t give him too much trouble, Fireheart.” Goldenflower chuckled. “They’re four moons old, surely you can handle a bit of rough play.”

Fireheart was instantly reminded of her grief in his first life when the black and white tom been brought back from Snakerocks with blood-caked fur that all the herbs in the world couldn’t wash away. Swiftclaw was still her son in this life, but he had his warrior name along with Brightheart and her siblings.

“Do you remember how big Greystripe was at four moons? Because I don’t but I imagine Featherkit inherited his size.”

“You’re right about that.” Goldenflower agreed.

“Speaking of kits, how are you doing with four? I haven’t been able to hunt the forest clean, but it’s not for lack of trying.”

“Oh, you’ve been trying, little fox. That Clan meeting was only a quarter-moon ago.” She reminded him.

As if he could forget how the queens had collectively raked the entire Clan’s fur with their claws because he couldn’t figure out how to fill Tigerclaw’s massive pawsteps.

“How do you think things are going, Fireheart?” Goldenflower wondered. “Did we get through to them?”

“You got through to me.” came Swiftclaw’s snort from the entrance. “I told Featherkit that was a way to stun prey. How did she figure out it was a battle-move?”

“Kits are smarter than you give them credit for. Thanks for keeping them entertained, even if my back doesn’t thank you for pulling that move out.”

“She is pretty big for four moons old,” Swiftclaw noted. “Think she’ll be the biggest cat in ThunderClan?”

“She must take after Silverstream’s side of the family. Crookedstar is pretty big. She could have come by it honestly.”

The words felt sour on his tongue, the complete opposite of what he’d been telling Goldenflower not even a few heartbeats ago.

“Swiftclaw, come play badger!” Stormkit yowled loudly.

“Sure, just wait a mouse’s heartbeat!” The black and white tom called playfully.

“It’s good to see you resting, Fireheart! Love you, mom!” Swiftclaw crowed before he turned around and flashed his teeth in a mock growl. “Which one of you little kits pulled on Badger’s tail?! Don’t you know I eat cats for fresh-kill?”

Fireheart and Goldenflower laughed at their antics as Bramble and Tawny squirmed at Goldenflower’s belly. Fireheart found his gaze drawn to them, eyes flooding with memories.

“They’ll make brilliant warriors.” He murmured.

“Of course they will,” Goldenflower snorted, licking his forehead. “You like to make sure all the young cats train well. You should get some more rest, little fox. You can clear the forest of its prey when you next wake.”

* * *

_“Finally! I swear, Fireheart, you need to sleep more. How is anyone supposed to help you if you don’t sit down for more than five heartbeats?”_

_Redtail was chattering in his ears and it was all Fireheart could do to follow along._

_“You think it’s easy, dealing Bluestar on top of every other catastrophe in the forest?”_

_“Speaking of catastrophes, you can’t stay long, one of your Dreamstones just broke. There’s a fire coming soon, you have to get everyone to Sunningrocks.” Spottedleaf insisted. “Go now, before cats get hurt!”_

_“Spottedleaf, we just got him here-.”_

_“I know, but these are memories of his past life, remember? If they can help this time, why can’t we use them?!”_

_Redtail exhaled roughly._

_“Okay.” He sighed. “Open your eyes, Fireheart. What do you smell right now?”_

* * *

Fireheart’s eyes snapped open to… nothing. The tortoiseshell twins sent him back because a Dreamstone broke, but nothing was happening so why-?

“Fire!” Someone called out. “Fire heading this way! Twolegs at Fourtrees! Near the Thunderpath!”

“Someone get Fireheart!”

“I’m here!” He yowled as he scrambled to get everyone from the nursery into the clearing. “Where’s it coming from?!”

Darkstripe’s evening patrol had raced into the camp like dogs were on their heels.

“Thunderpath! There’s a monster on fire! It smashed into a tree and now everything’s burning!”

“Okay, if it’s coming from that way, we should go the other way before it gets here. Head for Sunningrocks!” He called out. “Fire can’t cross the river!”

Frostfur stumbled out of the warriors’ den, her eyes wide with fear.

“Tell Bluestar the forest is on fire!” He ran to the elders’ den and called through the branches of the fallen oak,

“Fire’s coming! We have to go!”

Next was the apprentices’ den, which was thankfully empty. They were likely herding everyone towards the river. He hoped.

“Leave the camp! Head for the river,” he called for any remaining cats. Frostfur, who was first to encounter Darkstripe’s patrol, was now helping Bluestar across the shadowy clearing. The leader’s face was a grotesque mask of fear as Frostfur nudged her forward with her nose.

“This way!” Fireheart yowled, beckoning with his tail before rushing to help the white she-cat guide Bluestar toward the entrance.

Cats were streaming past on either side of them, their fur bristling. The forest seemed to roar around them, and above the noise came a hideous two-tone wailing and the frantic barking of Twolegs as they crashed through the forest. Just like Longtail said, the fire was coming from the Thunderpath. Smoke billowed thickly into the clearing now, and behind it, the light of the fire grew ever brighter as it bore down on the camp.

Bluestar tore past Frostfur and was caught in the jostling stream of cats surging up and out of the ravine.

“Head for the river,” Fireheart ordered. “Keep an eye on your denmates. Don’t lose sight of one another.”

Fireheart forced himself to focus. Who was left behind before? Who did Yellowfang die for?

Patchpelt, Halftail, and Bramblekit. He knew for a fact that the queens had been the first ones out but he still ran ahead, weaving through each Clanmate in search of kits that were old enough to walk. At the front, Willowpelt’s kits struggled after their mother. She held Rainkit in her mouth. Fireheart signaled to a nearby Longtail and Mousefur, who hurried over and scooped up the remaining kits.

“Are you the last of the queens and kits?”

Willowpelt nodded and Fireheart stood at the bottom of the ravine and peered out over the camp.

Clouds of smoke swirled across the sky, hiding Silverpelt from view. He briefly thanked the tortoiseshell twins for the warning as he saw Bluestar’s thick gray pelt reach the top, bundled along by the other cats. Finally, he followed, glancing over his shoulder as he scrambled upward to see fire stretching greedy orange tongues into the ravine, ripping through the bone-dry bracken toward the camp. Fireheart scrambled onto the ridge. “Who’s missing?!” He called to the fleeing cats.

They stopped and turned to look questioningly at one another.

“The apprentices!” Nutleaf called. “Splashpaw and Fernpaw?!”

“And Thornclaw! The younger warriors were held back!” Whitestorm reported.

“Okay, I need three cats to help me look for them!”

“I’ll go!” Nutleaf volunteered immediately. “I need to find my kits!”

“And me,” Runningwind said.

“Nutleaf won’t fare well against the smoke, I’ll go instead.” Yellowfang insisted. “And we’ll have to be enough.”

Fireheart took off with the other two before anyone else could speak, picking his way down the ravine as smoke and heat gave way to fire below.

“By the Stars!” came an unfamiliar voice.

There were strangers in their territory. Right in the heart of camp! With a fire going on! Were the mouse-brained or fox-hearted?!

He forced himself to focus.

“Splashpaw! Fernpaw!” Runningwind called.

“Thornclaw!” Yellowfang howled.

“Can anyone hear us?!” Fireheart called out over the crackling of the rising flames.

The trio weaved through the flames that had sprouted and the branches that rained from the forest above. The trees they used to shelter the dens were already up in smoke.

“I found Fernpaw!” Runningwind howled from by the Highrock.

“Help me get to Thornclaw and the others!” Yellowfang rasped, closer to Fireheart.

Fireheart wheeled around and raced over to her. Thornclaw and his littermates had taken shelter in the warriors’ den and now they crouched in the corner nearest to Yellowfang, separated only by flames.

“Jump!” Yellowfang urged. “You can do it!”

“You’re strong!” Fireheart howled. “You can do this! Aim for the top of the den!”

One by one, Frostfur’s litter leaped or scurried or lunged for the flames, escaping only with singed fur and terrified expressions.

“Let’s go!” He called. The six of them started for the other cats but were quickly separated by a large flaming branch.

“Brackenheart! Yellowfang!” The remaining cats yelped in alarm.

“Let’s go!” Fireheart called. “Get out of here! Find the apprentices! We’ll come back for them!”

One by one, each more reluctant than the last, Frostfur’s kits scurried through the burning landscape and out of the ravine. Fireheart pawed at the tree’s unburnt branches, hoping beyond hope that something would give way and let him get to-.

“Fireheart, watch out!” Brackenheart screeched.

Much like the last time Brackenheart said those words, the ginger tom saw blackness before he saw what he should watch out for.

* * *

When Fireheart next woke, it was to garbled voices and the sensation of being dragged.

“What?” He tried to say. “What happened? Where’s Brackenheart?”

But his body wouldn’t move and no noise came from his throat. He closed his eyes and begged StarClan that he wouldn’t see the cats lost in the fire once he got there.

When he woke up for good, he was on the ground, not being dragged, and several familiar pelts lay beside him when he looked up. All of them twitched in their unconsciousness but they were thankfully alive.

Splashpaw, Fernpaw, Brackenheart, Yellowfang, and Runningwind were all here. He could also tell that there were cats he didn’t know here. Or. at the very least, couldn’t recognize through the stench of smoke.

“Fireheart!” Wetfoot crowed gratefully. “Thank StarClan! You’re the first to wake. We think the apprentices might wake next, since they’re younger and might be more resilient.”

“Wetfoot?”

“Here, drink!” The tabby insisted. “You need to regain your strength. The further we get away from your camp, the better.”

“River.” Fireheart mumbled as he lapped at the wet moss before him. “We were going to the river.”

“Good idea. I don’t think fire can cross a river. Especially not one as wide as that.” Another ShadowClan cat offered. “My name is Whitethroat. Lightstep, Wetfoot, Oakpaw, and I were escorting our medicine cats to the Moonstone when we saw the fire in your camp. We decided to see if we could help and we found you all.”

“Thank you.” Fireheart rasped. “I’m sure my Clan will thank you as well if you stick around that long. We wouldn’t want to hinder a journey to the Moonstone.”

“StarClan will understand,” Runningnose insisted. “The living must be helped if we want the dead to greet us with open paws.”

Fireheart had never heard that sentiment before, but it sounded like a medicine cat thing. He knew a bit about herbs but his only link to StarClan were the tortoiseshell twins and the Dreamstones that contained his memories.

“Do you think you can stand?” Wetfoot prompted, leaning against him.

“I think so. Even if I don’t think so, we can’t afford to stay here.” Fireheart rasped. “We need to get to the rest of our Clanmates by the river.”

“Yes, we do,” Runningwind said. Fireheart glanced up to see that he and Brackenheart were getting to shaky paws.

“Thank StarClan,” Fireheart mumbled, pushing his nose into his friends’ fur. Can you help me carry the apprentices?”

“No need, we can do that.” Whitethroat offered. “You should focus on keeping yourselves upright.”

“We should get going,” Littlecloud announced suddenly. “The fire is starting the spread further down the Thunderpath.”

The group trekked slowly through ThunderClan’s camp, which was being doused with rain. Small flames licked at the skeleton that remained of some dens but didn’t spread. The trek up the ravine was horrible on his legs but Fireheart pushed himself to keep going. Oakpaw matched him step for step with Splashpaw on his back, murmuring words of encouragement to any cat who lagged behind.

Eventually, they made it to Sunningrocks to find that instead of the panicked Clan he’d left behind, five RiverClan cats awaited them.

“Take the rocks!” A RiverClan cat called. “We’ll swim alongside you and catch anyone who falls.”

One by one, the group made its way onto RiverClan territory.

“It’s good that you found your way here,” Greenflower said, pushing her pelt into Fireheart’s shoulder. “We were beginning to worry. And hello, you all. It’s good to see you well, Oakpaw, but what are you doing here?”

“We’re escorting our medicine cats to the Moonstone when the fire broke out by the Thunderpath. We found these cats trapped by the fire and dragged them out.” Lightstep explained. “We should probably take our leave now. We wanted to make sure no cat was left behind, but there are more than enough of you to ensure that.”

“Indeed there are. Thank you for your help, you all. I’m sure ThunderClan will appreciate it. May StarClan light your path.”

Splashpaw and Fernpaw began to stir as the ShadowClan cats crept free of their burdens and the RiverClan cats picked them up.

“Runny?” Splashpaw mumbled.

“Runner’ind?” Fernpaw rasped.

“Yeah, kits,” Runningwind mumbled tiredly, placing himself between the two cats who held each apprentice. “I’m here. Keep your eyes open, can you do that?” He whispered.

Fireheart touched noses with Oakpaw and Wetfoot and dipped his head to the rest.

“Thank you all. My Clanmates and I owe you our lives.”

“You would do the same for us.” Oakpaw insisted.

* * *

The scene at RiverClan’s camp was one of chaos. Several cats stood at the center of the camp, growling and snarling at each other. Among them were Sandstorm, Duspelt, Goldenflower, and Nutleaf.

“Stand down!” Fireheart snarled as he stalked into camp. “What is going on here?!”

The ThunderClan cats broke rank and swarmed the newcomers. Brindleface took the apprentices from the RiverClan warriors and led them to one den while Mousefur led Runningwind to another.

“Greystripe made an appearance.” Darkstripe growled from where he glared at the RiverClan warrior. “And on top of that, RiverClan demanded Stormkit and Featherkit in exchange for help.”

Fireheart wanted to howl his frustration to the stars and let them handle things, for once.

“Okay.” He said simply.

“What?”

“Okay.” He said again. “They’re RiverClan kits. You knew this was coming just as much as I did. Why are you trying to fight?”

“I raised those kits.” Goldenflower spat. “I nursed them. I made sure they were groomed. They played with my kits. They might as well be my kits! Why wouldn’t we fight for them?!”

“For StarClan’s sake, Fireheart, they think you’re their father! You and Goldenflower and the ThunderClan nursery are all they know!” Darkstripe insisted.

“Well, now they can come to know Greenflower and Greystripe and the RiverClan nursery,” Fireheart grumbled. “Because if RiverClan is going to be this fox-hearted they deserve every tempter-tantrum those two can throw at them. For future reference, even when you think you’ve worn them out, they’ll never really like you. Now, if someone could point me to those kits I need to tell them that all my stories about their parents were true.”

“Not just yet, Fireheart,” Crookedstar called. “I have some concerns about the welfare of your Clan. I would like to discuss them with you, your leader, and whoever else you choose.”

“Sandstorm, Dustpelt,” He called out immediately. “And Greystripe, well met. You look right at home in RiverClan. Catch me up on just how you’ve been doing since you got here. I’ve got a weird feeling about this.”

Caterwauling came from the ThunderClan cats, shouts of “Traitor!” and “He can go sleep in a badger’s den!”

Sandstorm and Dustpelt trotted over and immediately shifted so that they bundled Fireheart between them, with Sandstorm taking most of his weight.

“Will Bluestar be joining us?” Dustpelt murmured from his other side.

“I don’t know.” Fireheart sighed. “She might still be addled by the fire. We should be enough.”

The trio glided forward as if they were one cat to greet the RiverClan leader and deputy. Crookedstar eyed them with nervous scrutiny.

“Step into my den, you four. I have some decisions to make that you should be involved in.”

Greystripe was the first to speak when they settled in.

“Well met indeed,” He sneered to Fireheart. “You think you can just keep my kits?!”

“Don’t you dare act like you ever thought about them.” Sandstorm growled, stepping forward. “About any of us! For that matter, back away from Fireheart. You don’t get to look at him. You don’t get to speak to him. You don’t even get to let his name cross your mind, you rotting piece of crowfood!”

“You three should think very carefully about how much you want those kits because we are desperate cats and we will fight for what’s ours,” Dustpelt added.

“Greystripe does not speak for me,” Crookedstar rebuffed. “and to be quite honest, I should have never let him try. It is true that I wish to know my daughter’s kits. But she is dead now, and her choices should not have factored into my decisions for my Clan. Greystripe is a capable fighter. He takes to our techniques well enough and he brings back a decent amount of prey for someone who was once a ThunderClan cat. But he does not belong in RiverClan, and it seems that all he wants are the kits. So, I am willing to return Greystripe in exchange for access to my daughter’s kits.”

“Crookedstar…” Leopardfur gasped. “They’re all you have left of your family. Are you sure-?”

“Question my decision all you like, but it is the only one I will make.”

“We accept.” Fireheart sighed.

“What?!” Dustpelt, Sandstorm, and Greystripe blurted out.

“You can’t really think-.”

“I think that I know what Crookedstar wants. He’s not asking for the kits, guys. He’s asking to see them. He’s asking to get to know them. He doesn’t want to take them from the only home they’ve ever known, he just wants his Clan back to normal. Or as normal as he can make it. So, I accept. We can meet at Sunningrocks every half-moon. If that doesn’t work for you, then we’ll figure out some other time. I’m sure they’ll like their mother’s family now that they know we’re not trying to give them away.”

“I’m sure they will. Now, about Bluestar-.”

“She’s… not well. I apologize if she said or did anything off-putting. We assume she’s still reeling from Tigerclaw’s betrayal, and now that I think about it, the fire will not help with any of this.” Dustpelt groaned. “Fox-dung and we were just starting to let Fireheart sleep.”

“Like he was when the fire started?” Bluestar’s voice reached Fireheart’s ears, colder than fresh snow in leafbare. Dustpelt winced and Sandstorm angled herself so that she stood more in front of him, but Fireheart was the first to speak.

“Hello, Bluestar, it’s good to see you awake.” He said evenly.

“It’s good to see you at all, Fireheart.” She snorted. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

“He’s been patrolling a lot.” Dustpelt insisted. “With Tigerclaw on the loose-.”

“I do not want your excuses. I want to know why I haven’t been informed of the going ons of my Clan. I have life in me still, kit. You won’t be getting control of this Clan so easily.”

“I don’t want control of the Clan, I want you to do your job!” Fireheart burst out angrily, immediately regretting it.

“I’m sorry,” He said quietly. “Would you like to sit in on the rest of this meeting? Crookedstar was negotiating for the right to see his daughter’s kits.”

“Ah yes, your poor friend… kits go to their mother’s Clan. It’s an old rule, one we all know well. The thing is, there’s a second part to that rule. If the mother is dead, they go to their father.”

“Greystripe currently lives in RiverClan. Crookedstar offered to let us have him, with the understanding that he would be able to meet the kits every half-moon at Sunningrocks.”

“Splendid.” Bluestar crowed, eyes sharp and tail lashing. “I have been wondering what had become of you, Greystripe. You four used to be so close. But you grew lazy and incompetent before you eventually left us. How do I know you won’t remain that way?”

“I don’t have to prove myself to any of you.” Greystripe scoffed. “I can hunt and fight just as well outside a Clan as I can in one.” “Oh, but you see, I’ve made that mistake once before, young one. And it led to Tigerclaw consorting with rogues and swearing vengeance on us all. No, little tom. You will come home and apologize to your mother and make amends with your brother. We will keep a close eye on you because that’s what a Clan does. You felt that we weren’t providing you with enough attention, so now? We’ll smother you with it.” Bluestar sneered. “And you will be a good little warrior and do exactly what I say, exactly as I say it. You’re stuck with us now, Greystripe. We’ll make a ThunderClan cat of you yet.”

Fireheart noticed Crookedstar's concerned gaze and how Leopardfur’s smugness turned to surprise.

“We should see how everyone is.” Dustpelt offered, giving them all an out. Fireheart nodded gratefully.

“I'll see what Nutleaf thinks should happen. We might need to do things before we go to sleep.”

Fireheart himself was so very tired, and Sandstorm shook her head as she got to her paws.

“The other warriors can handle that. You need to eat and get checked out by Nutleaf. We also need to see if Yellowfang has woken up.”

“She hasn’t,” Bluestar said suddenly. “Nutleaf is worried. Her breathing grows harsh at times but others it’s shallower than the pool at the back of the medicine cat den. I worry we might lose her, but she made it out. She made it out of the fire. ShadowClan saw to that. So why would we lose her?”

“There is more to fire than just the flames, Bluestar.” Crookedstar offered. “Cats can be harmed breathing the air around it for too long.”

“I suppose… but that’s not what happens when the Twolegs build their fires in greenleaf.”

“Perhaps there is less tainted air because they make small fires.” Crookedstar offered easily. “Yellowfang’s fate lay in the paws of our ancestors. There is nothing to be done about that but hope that StarClan has mercy. For now, you all should sleep. Eat. Rebuild your strength. Tomorrow, we’ll sort out the state of your camp and go from there.”

“Thank you, Crookedstar. ThunderClan owes you a debt.”

“Consider it paid with the arrangements previously made.” Crookedstar offered, astonishing them all. Fireheart gaped and a leaf landing on his nose could have knocked him over.

“You have our honor, then.” Bluestar dipped her head. “Come, you four. We should see how our Clanmates fare.”


	15. Chapter 15

#  **Chapter Fourteen**

Oakpaw was less than impressed when he was informed that Blackstar wanted him to go to the Moonstone the night after the Gathering. He’d been before, and it was one of the scariest things he’d ever done, even if he was just standing guard with Whitethroat towards the end. If he could just never leave ShadowClan territory ever again, that would be great. But apparently, StarClan had other plans. 

“Wetfoot, Whitethroat, Lightstep, and Oakpaw will be accompanying the medicine cats to the Moonstone. Normally they go at the half-moon, but we need the guidance of our ancestors now more than ever. I’m sure they will forgive the intrusion.” 

Sure they would. ShadowClan needed them now more than ever, and StarClan was supposed to guide the Clans through tough times.

So Oakpaw would be leaving ShadowClan territory again. And with Blackstar’s orders to completely avoid the Carrionplace, they would be taking the Thunderpath near ThunderClan’s borders. Oakpaw wasn’t quite so eager to do that, considering his last interaction with another Clan had interrupted a Gathering, but who was he to go against his leader? 

“It’s okay to be afraid.” Wetfoot told him, noticing his reluctance as they traveled through the marshy wetland. 

“Not afraid.” Oakpaw grumbled. “Just don’t want to see Fireheart anytime soon.” 

“Did Oakpaw get possessed by a ghost or something?” Lightstep snickered. “Next to Wetfoot, Fireheart of ThunderClan is all he talks about.” 

“No he’s not!” Oakpaw spat. 

“It’s fine, Oakpaw.” Whitethroat offered cheerfully. “Fireheart’s a good cat. There are worse cats to be fond of.” 

“Fondness is an understatement.” Lightstep snorted. “Never seen a youngster so close to another cat’s tail.” 

“Shut up!” Okapaw burst out, annoyed. “Shut up, shut up, shut up! You don’t know what you’re talking about! I love having Wetfoot as my mentor. He’s the one who’s helped me the most! Fireheart’s just a friend.” 

“No he’s not.” His mentor corrected gently.

“Wetfoot-.”

“It’s okay. He’s a role model to plenty of young cats, whether they’re in his Clan or not. You weren’t the only cat chanting his name at the last Gathering, Oakie. I was right there with you. So was that WindClan apprentice.” 

“Gorsepaw.” Oakpaw mumbled. “Stars above, he’s so big, Wetfoot! I didn’t even know six moons had passed but he showed up at his first Gathering! I almost didn’t recognize the little scrap but I remembered his fur.” 

“Aw, look at you!” Whitethroat chuckled. “Sounding like the proudest older brother any cat could have. Good on you, Oakpaw.” 

“Do you guys always have to tease me about being the youngest?” Oakpaw whined. 

“Yes.” Lightstep, Whitethroat, and Littlecloud laughed together. 

“C’mon, Oakie, we’re not that much older than you. It’s, what, two more moons to get your warrior name, I think. And I might have been confirmed as a Healer by StarClan but I’ll be an apprentice for as long as Sleetstep is still alive.” 

“Hopefully forever!” Whitethroat chirped. “Not that I’m not perfectly confident in your abilities, Littlecloud-.”

“Even _I’m_ not that confident, Whitethroat, don’t worry. Point is, you know we’re all here for you but we’re practically your age. It’s okay to look up to more than one cat in life.” 

“Yeah, sure.” Oakpaw scoffed. “I’m not a ThunderClan cat, though.” 

“You’re ShadowClan through and through.” Whitethroat deadpanned. “We were born in the same nursery. We just have less cats to look up to. If it helps at all, I kinda admire Crookedstar of RiverClan. Because, y’know, he’s huge! He pretty much towers over Blackstar and he can swim like a fish!”

“Blackstar is pretty big!” Oakpaw laughed. “Especially for a ShadowClan cat. How do you know he can swim?” 

“He’s the _leader_ of RiverClan. I don’t think he’d get to be leader if he didn’t know how to swim. And fight. With all that bulk, he’s probably one of their best!”

“But how long would he last in ShadowClan?” Lightstep challenged. “Sure, we swim decently enough but we don’t always have to. What we do have to watch out for is other animals waiting in the marshes. Could he last against a snapping turtle like Brownclaw did?”

“Brownclaw is definitely an exception to the average ShadowClan warrior. He’s the only one with enough confidence to pull off a stunt like that. Which is exactly why he got his warrior name.” Wetfoot snorted.

“When do you think Oakpaw will get his warrior name?” 

“There’s still a few moves I’ve been holding out on him for and he’s finally hit his growth, so I’m not as worried about taking him deeper into the marshes. Two moons is about right, unless he does something stupid. Which you better not. OAkpaw, you know good and well-.” 

“I know, I know. Don’t get to see my mom unless We go to the Moonstone. Which seems like every other moon, so that’s something to look forward to.” 

“These are difficult times, youngster.” Runningnose murmured nervously. “Especially this summer, since the marsh is withering slowly and the Carrionplace is closed for good. It’s not wrong to ask StarClan for guidance outside the half-moon ceremony.” 

“Of course not, Runningnose.” Oakpaw grumbled politely. 

He just didn’t see the point in asking his ancestors for things they couldn’t help with. Then again, any time he got to spend with his mother was worth it. If he closed his eyes and concentrated, he could feel her tongue smooth down the fur on his back. 

“Hey, do you smell like that?” Whitethroat yelped, alamed. 

“We’re close to the Thunderpath. A monster probably went too fast and skinned their paws, just like we do.” 

“Uh, someone skinned their paws alright.” Lightstep announced as he and Whitethroat raced past the rest of the group. “That’s fire up ahead!” 


	16. Chapter 16

# Chapter Fifteen Preview

Fireheart wasn’t allowed to do anything. He was plopped in a nest in Bluestar’s den and Sandstorm sat on him all day and night. If she wasn’t sitting on him, she was laying on him or eating beside him or generally lounging around with a knowing gleam in her eyes. She knew exactly what her new job was and she relished every bit of it. So Fireheart wasn’t allowed to do anything. Not get his own prey, not get up and walk past the outside of Bluestar’s den. Even his trips to the dirtplace were accompanied by another cat who stood guard and called out every few heartbeats to make sure he didn’t run off. Usually Brackenheart or one of his siblings, because they were definitely not allowed to do anything either. Frostfur made sure of it.

Greystripe’s job was to hunt. He was put in charge of catching every piece of prey he saw from sunrise to sunset upon pain of never seeing his kits again. Which is only because the kits were… strange around him. Goldenflower was happy to report that Stormkit and Featherkit waited patiently at the Highrock every day for their father, the deputy, to come out. Whether it was to make dirt or get some fresh air, they pranced around him and tackled him to the ground and chattered about their day. Greystripe was fuming, of course. He was positively spitting at the idea that his kits called someone else their father. He was absolutely furious about being kept away from his own flesh and blood. This was made worse by the fact that they seemed to know all about him. Fireheart spoke highly of his old friend, even now as he struggled to adjust to ThunderClan once more. He thanked Greystripe for every piece of prey he was brought and every report he was given from the tom on border patrols. Fireheart he insisted that the kits say their hellos when Greystripe was going out or coming back for the day. It was no surprise to anyone that wasn’t Fireheart why Stormkit and Featherkit refused to meet the tom who sired them.

“He’s not the one they grew up with, dear.” Speckletail chuckled warmly as she and Fireheart watched Snowkit and Bramblekit practice crouches in front of the nursery.

“He’s doing brilliantly!” Fireheart crowed as the white tom leapt over his brown tabby companion and managed to keep his footing. “Brackenheart will have his paws full, but Snowkit should do well enough in training.”

“Focus, dear, we were talking about your kits-.”

“They’re not my kits.”

“Though that’s another thing. Who did Brackenheart name himself after?”

“Me.” Fireheart snorted. “Smug little furball thought it was a good idea at the time. I wonder if he regrets that.”

“Whyever would he?” Speckletail scoffed.

“I’m not exactly the mentor he looked up to, am I?”

“You’ve been carrying this Clan through the past few moons, Fireheart. Your only fault is looking like a drowned rat often enough that we queens had to step in.”

“So if I’d groomed myself a bit more-.”

“Not the point, dear. The point is that you need rest. A proper break. Some time to find your paws just like the rest of us. Which is where your kits come in.”

“They’re not-.”

“ _Just_ your kits, I know. Goldenflower’s been nursing them. They should be ready to accept meat any day now.”

“Apparently they’re being picky. No clue why. Bramble’s already chomping on mice, even if Tawny’s a bit more cautious.”

“Kits can be picky.” Speckletail offered knowingly. “Lionheart sure was, in his youth. He found a food he liked and ate only that food for a good few days, then he moved on to something else, and something else, until he made his way through all the prey-types we offered and picked a few he really liked.”

“Do you think that’ll be Feather?”

“Possibly. Every cat doesn’t chase every mouse just because it’s there.”

“Fair enough. Maybe she’ll like birds or squirrels.” Fireheart snickered. “Cinderpelt sure does.”

“Cinderpelt’s the best!”

Two silver shapes blurred past the ginger tom, forcing his front paws into the air and spinning him around like a stunned mouse before a cat’s caught it for good. Speckletail sat up on her hind paws and steadied her companion, shooting a sharp look at the rowdy kittens.

“You need to be careful with Fireheart, little ones.” She reminded them sternly. “He’s not quite as sturdy as he should be yet.”

“Sorry, Dad.” Featherkit mumbled, nuzzling his flank. Stormkit copied his sister easily.

“Yeah, sorry, Dad.” The darker grey kit mewed. “We thought we would stop right in front of you, not push you around.”

“Maybe when he’s feeling better.” Speckletail offered. “Do you want to sit with us or go play with Bramble and Snow?”

“We’re going to play, Storm just wanted to make sure Dad was okay before we did.” Featherkit chirped. “Besides, we heard you talking about Cinderpelt. Storm thinks she hangs the moon and stars.”

“No I don’t!” Stormkit whined.

“Sure you do! You want her to be your mentor so bad, I’m shocked you haven’t asked Fireheart to make it happen.”

“Why would I do that?!” Stormkit hissed. “That’s favor- favorite- that’s asking for favors!” He burst out, frustrated.

“Favoritism.” Fireheart yawned, rolling over to stare at them. “It’s got five parts. Say it with me.”

“ _Fay-_.”

“Fay-.”

“ _Vore_.”

“Vore.”

“ _It-._ ”

“Its?” Featherkit asked.

“ _It._ ” Fireheart corrected.

“ _Is._ ”

“Is? So it’s it-is?” Storm asked.

“Yes, just like that. And then say _em_. Like them without the th.”

“Em.” The kits chorused.

“Now, try it slowly.”

“Favoritsum.” Stormkit meowed slowly.

“Favureesem.” Featherkit squeaked.

“Close enough. You’ll learn it someday. Where’d you hear it?” Speckletail wondered.

“Smallear said Bluestar picked Fireheart to be deputy because of that and then he said it’s like she went to sleep forever. Mousefur said it means picking a favorite cat, when we asked her why he said that.”

“Well, at least Mousefur was being nice about it.” Fireheart grumbled.

“Runningwind keeps her honest.” Speckletail snorted. “Anyway, it’s not favoritism. Kits can ask for a certain mentor but it’s up to the leader to decide if that mentor is right for you.”

“But isn’t Fireheart leading us now? Since Bluestar doesn’t feel well?”

“Sort of. Bluestar is getting better, we think. I’m rather sure she’ll make it to Snowkit’s apprentice ceremony. As well as the one for you four.”

“I hope so. Bluestar seems pretty cool.” Stormkit chirped.

“You think everyone older than you is cool.”

“Not Longtail.”

“Nobody likes him.”

“Or Patchpaw.”

“Pretty sure that’s his apprentice, so again, nobody likes him.”

“Patchpaw is Mousefur’s apprentice.” Fireheart corrected sleepily. “And I hope you aren’t badmouthing your Clanmates behind their backs.”

“Patchpaw wouldn’t care if we said it to his face.” Featherkit scoffed. “I did it just the other day. Splashpaw laughed.”

Fireheart groaned and rolled his eyes.

“Go play with Snow and Bramble.” He scowled half-heartedly. He flicked his gaze to the mentioned kits, who were running around in what had to be a game of chase-the-mouse.

“Okay, Dad.” Stormkit grinned, prodding his sister away from Fireheart.. “Can we eat with you later? I think I want to try mouse.”

“Yesterday you were asking about fish.”

“Well, we don’t have any fish. So I might as well try something easy.”

“Good boy.” Speckletail purred, nuzzling the kit and licking between his ears.

“Yes, we can eat together. If you don’t like it, I’ll take it.” Fireheart added.

“ _Woohoo!_ ”

“ _Alright!_ ”

The kits cheered as they raced toward their denamtes.

“Don’t see them doing that with _Greystripe_.” Speckletail snickered.

“They haven’t been asking as much about Silverstream either. At least they still like Sandstorm.”

“Of course they do, she spoils them rotten. All five of them. I bet, next to the kits themselves, and Goldy, and I, you two are the ones who know the most paw-speak. Brackenheart is next, of course, but you get my point.”

“Yep.”


End file.
